IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


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Corporation 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


>^ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted^  to  obtain  the  best 
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which  may  alter  any  of  th'S  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  mity  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommag^e 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pellicul^e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 

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Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noirel 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relii  avec  d'autres  documents 


D 


D 


D 


Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

Larrl*  ire  serree  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
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mais,  lorsque  cela  4tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  it6  film^es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  exemplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  *t*  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  ditailt 
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une  image  reproduite   ou  qui  peuvent  cxiger  una 
modification  dans  la  rn*thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 

n 

D 
0 
D 
D 
D 
D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restauries  et/ou  pellicul^es 

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obtenir  la  meilleure  imsge  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 
Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 
lOX     14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


J 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


re 

litailt 
II  du 
nodificr 
ir  un« 
ilmaga 


IS 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Morisset  Library 
University  of  Ottawa 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
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Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
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sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  filmd  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Bibliothdque  Morisset 
University  d'Ottawa 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim«e  sont  filmds  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
origiriaux  sont  film6s  en  commengant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichd,  il  est  film6  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


irrata 
to 


pelure, 

n  it 


3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

W.  H.  H.  MURRAY'S  WORKS. 

sfoSr/a!  Par.  aT^:: "°-'-  "■—- 

'"'I^^?"''   '"'''°-     ®"P«--«''  illustrated   with   ISO 

J.  D.  Woodward,  c.  Broushton  and  other  artlets 
Dmque  paper  covers.  »2.50;  doth,  $3.50  doth 
extra  g-iit,  $4.00.  •p-^-ow,  oiotn, 

MAMELONS    and    UNGAVA       t^^  r^ 

New.    $1.50.        ''''^^^^-     Two  Canadian   Idyls. 

LAKE  CHAMPLAIN  AND  ITS  SHORES.     New      $1 
DEACONS.    Illustrated.   Cloth,  75  cts. ;  Paper,  50  cts 
TO  DIE  IS  GAIN.    Religious  Address.    Paper,  25  cts 
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A.MP 
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ts. 
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2-^ 


LAKE    CHAMPLAIN 


AND 


ITS    SHORES 


cE7 


BV 


W.   H.   H.   MURRAY 

AUTHOR  OF  "ADVENTURES   ,N   THE   WILDERNESS."  "  DAYLIGHT   LAN.  " 
"ADIRONDACK   TALES,"  •<  MAMELONS,"  ^\.J.:i:rll''' 


BOSTON 
DE   WOLFE,  FISKE  &  CO. 

365  Washington  Street 


Copyright,  1890, 
By  W.  H.  H.  Murkay 


^-4 


■^.. ,»►*<. A. 'Sfe>- 


i:l7 

H90 


C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON, 

Typographers  and  Electrotvpehs, 

146  HioH  STREET,  Boston. 


DEDICATION. 

BECAUSE  OK  HIS  ADMIKATION  ANI>  AFFECTION 
FOR   LAKE  CHAMP.AIN  AND  HIS  SERVICES   IN   HK,.ama   IT 

NKSS    OF     nature;     AND     BECAUSE     HE     IS     MY     FKIEND 
r  DEDICATE  THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME  TO  THE 


Bdbungton,  vt., 
1890. 


The  Author. 


CONTENTS. 

Introduction  ....  ^^"^ 

A  Preparatory  Chaptkr 

•     • 5 

PART  L 
The  Traditional  and  Historic  Period   ...       43 

PAliT  11 

The  Great  National  Park 

115 

PART  III 
Lake  Champlain  avd  tifv  7?*.,,. 

^iJN    A.\D    IHE  J^ACILITIES  IT  OFFERS 

TO  Yachtsmen    . 

Q  ^  131 

BAILING  Directions 

.    162 

PART  ir. 
Historical     Eeminiscexces     a.vi>     Facts    cov 

.-ECTEI,  WITH  TIIK  S„„h.s  „,  L,„,,  C„AMP.Am,      ]86 

The     Game     Fish     a.vd     Fishi.vo     ok     Lake 
Champlain     . 

237 


l\ 


INTKODUCTION. 


I  HAVE  prepared  this  vol,„„e  i„  the  interest 
of  history  and  of   pleasure  boti.     I„  the  first 
Pl-o    I     desired     to    eolleet    and    popularise 
certain   facts    and    incidents   which    have    re 
mained   hidden   from    general    observation   or 
published   in   such   a  disconnected   manner  as 
to    be    practically    useless    in    ihe     cause    of 
correct   knowledge.     I  wished   also   to  correct 
certain   errors  of    place   and   name    and    con- 
clusion that  writers   and   speakers   have  inva- 
nably   fallen   into   when    mentioning    matters 
connected    with     Lake     Champlain     and     its 
chores.      Above    ail   else    I    desired    to    call 
national  attention,  especially  that  of  scholars 
and  students  in  our  colleges  and  public  schools, 
to    the    historic    events    which    had   occurred 


!  ; 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

in   this   valley,  and   their  intimate  connection 
with   American    liberty   and    civilization;    for 
it    seemed    to    me    that    these   would    be    in- 
tensely  interested  in  a   theme   so   significant, 
and  to  which  their  attention  may  never  have 
been   directly  called.      I   had   at   the   start   a 
larger   work   in   contemplation,  and   for  years 
have    been    collecting    material    for    it;    but 
under    the    present    condition    of    the    public 
taste   in   respect   to  letters    it    is    not    likely 
that    such    a    v  crk    would    be    commercially 
profitable    to    a    pubisher;    and    as    we    are 
now  living,  as  regards  literature,  in  a  reghne  of 
dollars    ?nd   cents,   when    mental    efforts   are 
weighed   in   the   same    scale   with    sugar   and 
hams,   the   question   which   decides   all    schol- 
arly  ventures  is,  whether   it  will   pay  or  not. 
The    historical   section    of    this   little   volume 
should,    therefore,    be   regarded   by  the  reader 
as  a   suggestion   rather   than   a  treatment  of 
the   subject. 

T    desired,    furthermore,    to    coxumend    this 


••^ 


for 


INTKODUCTIOSr.  3 

lake   to  the   favor  of    the   American    people 
not  o„l3,   because  of  its  historic   connections,' 
but   because  while   it  stands  at  present  com- 
parat:vely  unoccupied,  it  nevertheless  supplies 
to     hen,  for  the   purpose   of  recreation,   one 
of  the  most  desirable   pleasure   resorts  of  the 
country.     Having   seen  most  of  the   localities 
*he    continent    noted    for  their  beauty    I 

can   but  declare   that  I  know  nn   .ti, 

,  .  ,      ,  ituow  no   other  spot 
which    for  loveliness  n( 

'oveimess  of  appearance,   majesty 

of  scenery,  and  varied  resources  of  entertain' 
Jjent  can  compare  with  Lake  Chamnlain. 
Nature   has    signalized    and    history   has'  em- 

tat  ,t   challenges   the   attention   and    invites 
he    presence    of    all    who    love    the    one    or 
are    impressed  with    the    other.      As    among 
Waterfalls   there   is   but   nn»    v  . 

countrv  "''^^'■^   'n    the 

counto^,   so   among  lakes    there    is    but    one 

Champ  a  Geographically  connected  as  it  is 
w.th  the  Horicon  and  the  Hudson  on  the 
south  and   tho  Sf    t 

" '^""^    Oil    ihe    north; 


„.., 


I 


^  INTRODUCTION. 

with  the  Adirondcacks  and  the  White  Moun- 
tains  on  the  west  and  east,  it  invites  tlie 
visitors  of  these  celebrated  localities  to  the 
spectacle  of  its  marvellous  beauty  and  the  view 
of   its   historic  places   and   ruins. 

THE   AUTHOR. 


A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER 


OUTDOOR   LIFE. 

"eias,    and    crowd    into    the    strPPf  •    i      ^ 

ficial  characteristics  of  city  n„nnL 

P>-i-'ting  themselves  .,,,0     [he  !  '"  ^''' 

We  are  t.Hn^   JT     '  ^  '""'•>'  "^  «oc>ety. 

beUeateri:  ;:\:^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

tl>e  markings  are  no.      ,  ''°^  ^'^^^  "^ 

Pliance.     Ti,e  prohlern  of  ""'''"  "?" 

-tinent   is   tL  p    L^  T™""'   °"   *'"' 
population  of  our  c  ie     "  ""■        "^    "" 

«  «-.u.her  of  r  J  !  T  ^*T''*' 

^    ^^^  io  iiOL  agricultural 


6 


A  TREPARATORY  CHAPTER. 


and  rural,  it  is  commercial,  mechanical,  urban. 
The  cities  of  America  already  dictate  the  policy 
of  America.  Even  religion  is  growing  to  be 
metropolitan.  The  time  was  when  the  great, 
lights  of  theology  and  of  pulpit  power  were 
country  pastors.  The  time  was  in  Connecticut, 
when  Porter  at  Washington,  and  Bellamy  at 
Bethlehem,  and  Beecher  on  Litchfield  Hill, 
directed  the  religious  life  of  Connecticut 
churches.  To-day  the  pastors  in  those  villages 
exercise  no  appreciable  influence  on  the  morals 
or  the  religious  opinions  of  the  State.  To-day, 
the  best  preacliers,  by  a  tendency  of  the  time 
that  no  power  can  resist,  are  drawn  into  the 
cities.  The  best  thinkers  are  either  in,  or 
grouped  around,  our  universities;  and  the 
social  life,  the  intellectual  stimulus  and  the 
religious  characteristics  of  our  universities  are 
moulded  into  the  form  of  metropolitan  customs 
and  associations.  The  home-life  of  the  nation 
has  been  influenced  to  the  same  extent  and  in 
the  same  direction.  The  homesteads  of  New 
England  have  passed,  or  are  fast  passing,  from 
the  control  of  New  England  men  and  women, 
into  the  hands  of  those  of  foreign  extraction. 


I  i 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  7 

It  is  safe  to   say  that   the  old  New  England 
home-hfe  .s  already  a  thing  of  the  past.     Even 
the  fireplace,  which  had   in   it   such   ele„,ents 
ot  cheerfulness  and  good  health  that  it  would 
seem   able   to   withstand   any   innovation,  has 
now  become  such  a  rarity  as   to   be  a  matter 
of  pleasurable  surpri.se  when  you  enter  a  house 
and  see  a  cheerful  fire  burning.     These  things 
.-ire  straws  which  .how  the  drift  of  the  current 
and  the  swiftness  of  it.     In  these  changes  are 

wntten  the  history  of  a  revolution-aLolu- 
t.on  m  manners,  in  usage,  in  habits  of  living- 
and   such   a   revolution    is   more    radical,   fa'r^ 
reachmg   and  momentous  in  its  influence  than 
one  wh.ch  ,s  expressed  in  war  and  battle.     The 
roar  of   cjuinon   and  the  gleam  of  swords  are 
ss  significant  of  change  than  the  destruction 
of    New    England    homesteads,   the    bricking. 
"P  of  New  England  fireplaces,  and  the  doin. 
away  w.th   the  New  England  well-sweep     f^: 
these  show  a  change  in  the  nature  of  th    cir- 
ouIat.o„  .tself,  and  prove  that  the  action  of  tTe 

popular  heart   has   been  interrupted,  modified 
and  become  altogether  diff.  „t  from  what  it 

Vvd/S. 


u   i 


8 


A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER. 


Now  city  life  means  indoor  life.     Cities  are 
made  up  of  houses,  and  composed  of  buildings 
that  men  build.     And  those  that  live  in  cities, 
from  the  necessities  of  their  condition,  live  in 
houses.      From    the   houses    where  they    sleep, 
men  pass  to  the  houses  where  they  work,  and 
they   take  the    shortest   cut   from   the  one  to 
the  other  and   bribe  the   inventiveness  of   the 
age  to  supply  them  with  the  quickest  locomo- 
tion.    Our  amusements  as  well  as  our  business 
are   all   within-doors.      The   games  which  our 
children  play  are  parlor  games ;  and  the  gam.es 
which    the   children  of  a  country   play  photo- 
graph  the    future   life    of    the    country.     The 
amusements  of  a  nation  more  than  its  business 
shape    the    character    of    it.      The    difference 
between  the   recreation  of   a  Parisian  and  the 
recreations  of  a  Swiss  mountaineer  portray  the 
difference  between  the  two  men;  and  as  they 
differ  so  will  their  children.     Their  virtues  even 
are  unlike,  both  in  nature  and  the   mode  and 
sphere   of   their   exercise.     The  one  is  strong, 
hearty,    healthy;    the    other   is   weak,    suave, 
feverish.      The    one   is    impulsive,    the    other 
constant. 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  9 

The  great  lack  of  our  cities -the  lack  which 
should  challenge  our  gravest  attention -is  seen 
^n  the  absence  of  playgrounds  for  our  children. 
What   every   American   city   needs   are   places 
where  the  boys  can  skate  and  coast,  and  race 
and  wrestle ;    where   the   girls   can    ron.p   and 
gather  flowers,  and  hold  their  sociables  under 
the    shadow   of    trees    and  on    the    banks    of 
streams.     The  absence  of  these  facilities  which 
are  essential  to  the  proper  development  of  boy- 
hood and  girlhood  -  for  the  real  health  of  their 

Puuty  of  their   morals -will   tell   fatally  on 
the  nsmg  generation.     You   can't  grow  trees 

of  tough  fibre  without  the  help  of  Ld.     No 

nchness  of  soil,  no  sunniness  of  exposure,  no 

— g  of  skilled  arboriculture  will  give  ;nto 

the  hickory  the  fineness  of  iu  fii 

oik   it.     ;  ,  ^^'^'''  °^  to  tlie 

oak   Us   stalwart   strength.     It  must  bear  the 

pressure  of  currents;  it  must  stind  , 

the    ,„vi  -  ""  "P  agamst 

the    volence    of    atmospheric    commotio^;    it 

must  liave  charged  intn  ,7  tu 

frost  and  iU      r  '  conservatism  of 

nent  TV      P''»<=^-'-h  comes  from  move- 
"ent   and   moisture.     You   can't   grow   strong 

trees  undp,-  ,  „i.,„„  ..,,     „  °     "^   *"ong 


trees  under  a  glass  roof.    No  mor 


e  can  jou  grow 


If 


10 


A  prp:paratory  chapter. 


lil 


boys  into    strong  men  by  any  indoor  culture. 
Neither  the  care  of  love,  nor  the  skill  of  medi- 
cine, nor  the  appliances  which  money  can  buy, 
nor  any  system   of   schoolroom  education  will 
give  unto  them  those  forces  and  inculcate  those 
principles  which  they  need  when  the  tasks  and 
duties  of  manhood  are  laid  upon  them.     They 
need  the  freedom  of  the  fields  and  the  stream. 
They  must  breathe  of  the  strength  of  the  wind. 
They  must  receive  through  the  pores  of  their 
skin  the  ministry  of  the  sun.     They  must  have 
the   discipline   of   weariness   and   risk.      They 
must  be  strengthened  in  their  courage  by  oppo- 
sition,  and   learn  self-mastery  and  self-respect 
under  the  provocation  of  active  companionship 
with  nature  and  with  their  mates.     I  take  no 
stock   in   the   babying   of  boys.     I   resent   the 
fashion  which   makes   little  girls   nothing  but 
animated  dolls.     The  girls  that  make  the  best 
women,  the   best  wives,  the   best  mothers,  are 
the   girls   that  are   educated  in  the  school  of 
industry,  in  the  school  of  service  for  others ;  in 
that  school  in  which  every  scholar  has  his  own 
burden  to  bear  and  is  taught  how  to  bear  it. 
The  beauty  of    natural  life   is   seen  in   its 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  jj 

^ibertie.,.  The  tyranny  which  is  the  worst  for™ 
of  tyranny  ,s  not  the  tyranny  of  t]>e  stronT 
ganntleted    hand     hnf    tK      /  ^' 

fln.rpv,    .    ,7'  "^    *^'"'''"»y    of    soft 

lingers    and    g bved    nnlmo       t  . 

«  uveu    paJms.       Luxury     s    thp 

hea.es   oppression.     Boys  and  girls  L  ruined 
by  what  tl,ey  I,ave,  by  the  Javishness  of  paren- 
'"'  *<'v,ng,  and  not  by  what  they  Jack      Th. 
women   that  gave  n.ost  of   us  birth    a„ , 
dowed  us  with  their  stren.tl,  '  '"" 

wori^ed   tl,»„  ^t«ngtl,,  were  women  that 

worked  tliemselves,  and  whose  doin<.  day  bv 
d  y  and  week  by  week  «ade  the^  Zn' 
The  faces  back  of  us  tliat  we  love  most  n      T 

wearied  faces,  wearied  in  tl,  *'"' 

'  "'^'liiea  in  their  servirp«!  nf  7^ 

wearied   in    nio-l.fiv  ..'  •]  ,  ^"^^^^ 

tion.  of  acturrlon      '      "'  ''''  "'-^'- 

There  is  a  ministration  akso  which  comes  to 
ua  u  e     ;       :  "'"  '"'^'^  "-  -«oor  life  of 

^^--e  jbeertair:;  rj::,X 

flower,  the   white   passing   cloud    the     ' 

f  ream,    and    the    rustlin"     lelf     1         7 

Knowledge  can  ho  „v,*  •     ,  ^°    '^°'"'3^- 

<=uge  can  be  obtained  out  of  book«      r  ^ 

knowledo-p   ;«  „„i     „  oooks.     But 

wisdomtani  tr'i.f:i  «r'  "^"^  """^  of 


the  soul  of  wisdom,  the 


fint 


spirit 


12 


A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER. 


of  intelligence,    the  divinity  of  fact,  and  law, 
and  life  expressive  of  persons,  and  force,  and 
things,  abhors  the  crash  of  the  printing-press. 
The  discoveries  that   have  lifted   the  world 
were  not  made  by  book-readers.     Galileo  ques- 
tioned   the    heavens,    and    from    amidst    their 
starry  splendors,  from  the  still  distance  of  their 
dim  depths,  they  answered  him  with  the  stupen- 
dous  assertion  that  the  earth  moved    throucrh 
space.     The  scholars  of   the  world  laughed  at 
him ;  the  ecclesiastics  arraigned  him,  and,  with 
the  threat  of  torture,  made  his  lips  declare  a 
lie.     But  he  knew  then,  and  we  know  to-day, 
that  the  heavens  had  not  lied  to  him,  and  that 
nature  had  taught  him  a  wisdom  worth  all  the 
libraries  of  the  world.     Watt  did  not  get  the 
hint  of   the   marvellous  energy  of   compressed 
steam  from  poring  over  books.     He  questioned 
a   natural  force,  and  that  force  revealed  unto 
him  a  secret   mighty  enough   to  revolutionize 
civilization. 

Newton  found  the  power  which  propels  the 
machinery  of  the  universe,  hanging  on  the 
bough  of  an  apple-tree  —  saw  in  the  force  of  an 
apple  the  mystery  of  motion,  and  an  answer  to 


13 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 

questions  which  had  puzzled  the  wi.e  from  the 
b.rth  of  the  race.     Franklin  opened  up  a  new 

world  of  knowledge  while  playing  with  a  kie 
The  w,nds    lifted    his    interrogation   into   1 
heavens,  and  the  heavens  answered  it  with  the 
-velafon   of  a   hitherto  unknown  power-a 
power  w,i,  ,^,^^  ^^^^^  thoughtliversal 
and  bnngs  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth  fac 
to  face.     Men  read  the  books  of  Ac^assiz    but 
heh™selfread.isdominthefinoft:'fir 

ot  nature.  Audubon  spent  forty  years  in  field 
and  forest,  on  the  seashore  and  the  banks  of 
streams  to  show  scholars  how  profound  w"  thel 

;gnorance  of  what  was  perched  on  thelh  1 
ops,  confined  in  their  cages,  and  building  ne2 

'"  Y'^y  ^'^"'ket  and  grove  in  the  land 
And  so  I  „ight  go  on  with  the  enumeration 

ho?,'      T'"°"'-™"^^*'^'''^-'=tionofmy 
thought.      You    can    see   how   little    of    that 

t  aTt  f  ■;?  ''  P'-""'^^"^'  -'-l^  i^  esi  - 

u  y  of!  T"   "^-^'^  ^-    --   from  the    - 
study  of  the  hbrary,   and  how  much  has  come 

from  the  great  outdoors.    The  true  library  to 


14 


A  PKKPARATORY  ("HAl'TEK. 


read —  the   library   on   whose    shelves  and    in 
whose  alcoves  is  not  a  useless  volume  —  is  the 
library  of   nature.     Her  facts  are  recorded   in 
forces;   are  apprehended   in  the   operations  of 
laws ;  are  written  in  tlie  structure  of  animals, 
and   visible  in  the  nature   of   things.     And   if 
one  is  ambitious  after  knowledge ;  if  he  craves 
facts ;  if  he  hungers  after  information,  then  let 
him  leave  his  house,  turn  his  back  on  his  books, 
and  go  where  great  men  have  always  gone,  — 
to  the  very  source  and  fountain-head  of  accu- 
rate  intelligence,  —  and   drink  of   the  flowing 
streams  as  they  flowed. 

But  there  is  a  finer  knowledge  than  that 
which  relates  to  the  mind.  It  is  the  knowledge 
of  that  which  has  for  its  object  the  inspiration 
and  building-up  of  the  soul. 

Now,  the  weak  point  in  American  society 
to-day  is  its  artificiality.  The  life  of  many  is 
but  a  vain  show.  They  seem  to  be  what  they 
are  not.  They  surround  themselves  with 
splendid  appearances,  while  they  themselves  aie 
ignoble.  They  purchase  a  magnificent  frame, 
within  the  golden  borders  of  which  they  insert 
a  daub  and  c.  11  it  a  work  of  a  master.     We 


OUTDOOR  LIFK.  15 

have  made  money  too   fast  in  the  la.st  forty 
years.     VVe  have  developed  the  material  pros^ 
r-onty  of  t  e  eountry  too  rapidly  not  to  Lve 
^      1.0    standard   by   which   the   worth    and 
-  rtl  lessness  of  thin,,  are  n.easnred  inverted. 
Wealth    stands    for  worth.      Boanty   of    faee 
^^0.   good   the   ab,senee    of    beauty   of   .soul 
Sensat>o„alis,n  in  the  pulpit  draws  better  tl .  1' 
true  oratory.     Shystering  in  law  pays  as  well 
a.^.sohd  legal  ability.     Spread^e  and  bun' 
combe   m   Congress,   and    nimble    faeility   for 
votmg    money   in   behalf   of    great    "  interna 
mjovement.,  "  and  of  voting  „,oney,  too  t 

behalf  of  one's  self,  carry  the  suffrage  of  a  dis- 
nct  agamst  patriotism,  ability,  and  :ni,npeach- 

part  of  everybody  to  seem  to  know  more  than 
tl-ey  know    to  be   worth  more   than   they  a" 

worth,  to  look  beautiful  vvhen  nature  has  il 
hem  plam,  to  talk  knowingly  about  books  th 

hey  have  never  read;  and  this  spirit  of  ar«fi 

ha?''   '?  ''''''"''  *°  --^^^'-^^   onet 

Ime-r  r  "  ^'-^  ^"°  '''  -^y  ^'-^  o^ 

We  know  that  every  age  and  everv  nation 


m 


mupmm.mm'i 


■NWKa 


I 


I 


i 


IR^ 


I 


16 


A  PRErARATORY  CHAPTER. 


has  its  characteristic  vice,  as  every  face  has  itn 
prominent  feature.  The  vices  of  nation«  are 
personal  and  distinctive.  History  will  err-pha- 
size  this  suggestion  to  your  memory.  The  vice 
of  Rome  was  military  glory,  an  inordinate 
thirst  for  empire,  a  craving  for  universal  powCi*. 
She  tossed  her  eagles  into  the  air  and  charged 
them  to  draw  the  line  of  their  flight  to  the 
boundaries  of  the  world.  They  did.  But 
whenever  they  flew,  they  flew  with  dripping 
talons,  and  the  shadow  of  their  wings  as  they 
passed  over  peoples  and  kingdoms  was  to  those 
who  dwelt  underneath  the  shadow  of  death. 
That  was  her  vice,  and  it  finally  slew  her  with 
its  own  sword. 

The  vice  of  Greece,  the  land  of  sun  and  song, 
was  worship  of  the  human  body.  Greece 
deified  the  physique,  idolized  the  human  struc- 
ture, and  bowed  in  adoration  before  the  god  her 
wit  and  care  and  culture  had  made.  For  its 
brow  she  wreathed  her  laurels,  in  its  praise  she 
sang  her  songs,  and  to  perpetuate  its  beauty 
and  glory  she  wrought,  with  a  thousand  edu- 
cated cliisels,  her  matchless  marbles.  Her 
deities  were  only  largo  men  and  large  women 


;i  ! 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 


17 


with  majestic  faces  and  perfect  limbs  and  beau- 
tiful forms.  Her  vice  was  poetic,  was  refined, 
was  spirituelle,  but  none  the  less  vice.  Her 
gods  were  mortal,  and  of  course  the  worshipers 
could  not  outlive  the  gods.  She  pushed  the 
triumph  of  her  civilization  to  the  limit  of  the 
possible  as  regards  human  development.  It 
rose  like  a  rocket  to  the  apex  of  its  flight, 
burst  in  the  day  of  Pericles  in  a  shower  of 
glory,  then  faded  forever  from  the  sky. 

The  vice  of  Spain  was  bigotry.     She  made  a 
pride  of  her  narrowness.     The  Spaniard  would 
not   investigate,   and  in  the   arrogance  of   his 
ignorance   he   forbade   investigation.     Into  his 
narrow  mind  the  dream  of  a  new  world  could 
not  enter.     His  priest-ridden  intellect  could  not 
admit   to   itself  the   mighty  movement  of  the 
heavens,  nor  his  senses  acknowledge  that  the 
earth  beneath  his  feet  was  forever  rolling  on  in 
its  sublime  career.     He    scoffed   at   Columbus, 
and   threatened   Galileo   with    the   rack.      He 
advertised  himself  as  the  bigot  of  the  ages. 

The  vice  of  France,  since  the  time  of  Charle- 
magne, has  been  fickleness.  France  has  been 
like  a  sea,  blown  upon  and  tossed.     France  has 


mm 


18 


A  prp:paratory  chapter. 


Hi. 


been  like  a  ship  running  in  a  gale,  crowded 
witli  canvas,  without  an  anchor  on  dock,  and 
without  a  helm.  Her  career  has  been  rapid, 
but  eccentric  —  now  empire,  now  kingdom,  now 
republic,  now  anarchy.  To-day  blindly  obe- 
dient to  priests;  to-morrow,  a  total  disrcgardcr 
of  all  religious  convictions.  France  has  b(!en 
as  a  man  subject  to  intermittent  insanity.  To- 
day she  is  sane ;  to-morrow  she  is  kept  at  her 
work  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  vice  of  Germany  is  scepticism  —  the 
scepticism  which  is  born  of  libraries,  whi(;h  is 
breathed  by  those  who  spend  tlioir  days  and 
their  nights  in  the  dim  recesses  of  misty 
alcoves;  the  scepticism  which  comes  from  the 
over-reading  of  books,  and  too  little  and  too 
narrow  observation  of  men;  the  scepticism 
which  the  specialist  is  exposed  to,  whosi;  mind 
is  forever  condensed  into  one  ray  and  focalized 
upon  one  minute  point ;  who  knows  one  truth, 
but  knows  not  the  relations  which  it  sustains  to 
a  thousand  other  truths,  and  who  lias  never 
mastered  the  sublime  harmony  of  the  arranged 
whole. 

The  vice  of  England  —  well,  what  is  it  ?     It 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 


19 


is  selfishness.     The  selfishness  of  fifty  thousand 
landholders   who  will   not   part  with   an   acre 
that  the  millions  living  around  them  may  own 
a  square  foot   of  the    soil  which    the  sweat  of 
their  industry  moistens  and  irrigates  to  fruitful- 
ness;   the  selfishness  of   hereditary  aristocracy 
jealous  of  its  honors  — honors  which  they  have 
never  fought  for,  but  which  have  been  trans- 
mitted   to    them;    of    fame   which    they   have 
never  won    on  the  sea  nor  the  battle-field;  of 
immense   wealth,    to   whose    full   coffers   their 
hands  have  never  contributed  a  dollar.     A  self- 
ishness which  regards  the  whole  world  as  only 
a  huge  sponge,  providentially  made  and  filled 
with   the  moistening  of  riches  for  the  British 
fingers  to  grasp  and  press  the  golden  contents 
into  British  coffers. 

And  so  I  might  question  all  nations,  from 
the  beginning  of  history  down  to  the  present 
tune,  and  we  should  see  that  each  nation  and 
each  age  has  had  its  characteristic,  prevailing, 
and  distinguishing  vice.  Well,  what  is  the  vice 
of  America  ?  It  is  not  military  glory  as  was 
Rome's ;  for  we  do  not  thirst  for  conquest,  and 
men  prefer  the  t^mnlnvixient 


iployi 


peace 


20 


A  PKErARATOBY  OIIArTER. 


to  tlio  risk  and  tlie  deprivations  of  war.     It  is 
not  deification  of  tlie  pliysique.      I  wisli  we  re- 
garded onr  bodies  witli  greater  reverence,  and 
gave  nnto  tl.eni  the  attention  of  f.ner  care.     It 
IS  not  bigotry  ;  for  we  are  liberal  and  tolerant. 
Twenty    denominations    and    twice    as    many 
creeds  live  at  peace  witliin  our  border.s.     It  is 
,  not  fu^kleness ;  for  we  arc  stable.     TIirou<;li  the 
most  radical  and  rattle-brained  Yankee  in  New 
England   there  runs  a  broad,  strong  streak  of 
con,servatisni.      Blood   will    tell;   and   the   old 
Pnritan  blood,  the  constitution-loving  blood  of 
old  England,  the  blood  which  wrung  the  <.reat 
Magna  Charta  from  King  John,  and  gave  to 
the  world   constitutional   liberty— this    blood 
which  flows  in  our  veins  to-day,  gives  unto  us 
all  a  sense  of  caution  ;  a  ,j,n-y-like  patience  in 
hearnig  both  sides  of  a  .case ;  a  deter.nination 
not  to  jump  before  we  look.     I  never  saw  a 
Yankee  yet  that  had  not  at  least  ton-twentieths 
of  old   fogy  blood  in  his   v<>ins.     I   never  yet 
saw  a  Yankee  as  impulsive  as  an  I.-ishman,  or 
as  wild-headed  as   a  Frenchman,  or  as   subject 
to  spasms   and  fits   as   an   Italian.     It   is   not 
scepticism;  for  we  are  reverent  and  believing, 


OUTDOOR   lAVK. 


21 


I   tliink   1   may   say   credulous.     The   Yankee 
loves  his  creed  as  tlie  Trislunan  loves  a  cudgel. 
It   enables    l,i,n    to  whack   a   man    religiously. 
The  old  Adam  in  him,  which  his  pioiy  forbids 
liini  to  express  in  profanity,  ho  can  let  out  in 
theological  argument.     The  amount  of  irrelig- 
iousness  which    a    Maine    Baptist   and   a    New 
Hampshire    Congregationalist  can  work  out  of 
themselves   in    the   course    of    a    forty-minute 
religious  discussion   of   their   respective   tenets 
can  never  be  computed  by  the  resources  of  the 
calculus. 

What,    then,  is    the    characteristic   vice    of 
America?     What   is   the    distinctive    weakness 
of    our   character?      What    is   tlie    prevailincr 
shame  of  the  day  ?     It  is  artifice.     The  Ameri° 
can   character  is  not  a  gemiine   one.     It  is  « 
made-up   character -a   character   based    upon 
seeming,    not     being.      This    vice     is     spread 
through  all  the  thousand  and  one  possible  ex- 
pressions of  society.     You  can  see  it  crop  out 
everywhere.      Men   love   to   seem   to   be   rich 
richer  than  they  are;  and  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances they  sacrifice   integrity,  peace  of   mind, 
domestic  happiness,  and  even  commercial  honor 


a 


22 


A  PREPAIIATORY  CHAPTER. 


itself.     Women  join  in  this  feeling  of  rivalry. 
They  dress  for  appearances  and  not  for  comfort 
and   health.      Their   standard    is   to    outshine 
some  one,  to  outdo  some  one,  and  to  cast  into 
the  shade  some  more  modest  or  more  truthful 
neighbor.     Girls  love  to  be  thought  handsomer 
than  they  are,  and  leave  the  true  road  which 
leads  the  human  figure  and  face  up  to  beauty, 
health,  and  that  way  of   life  and  dress  which 
leads    to    health.      They    resort    to    artificial 
methods,  to  art,  and  contrivance,  and  wit,  whose 
nature  is  hypocrisy,  and  whose  ultimate  issue 
can  be  nothing  but  mortification  and  a  broken- 
down     constitution.      A    really    frank,    open, 
genuine   person  is  so   rarely   met  with   to-day 
that  it  is  almost  dangerous  to  be  so,  for  such  a 
one  is  a  marked  person,  and  sensible  and  sensi- 
tive people  shrink  from  being  remarked  upon 
and  gossiped  about ;  and  so,  from  self-defence,  as 
it  were,  because  of  the  evil  usage  of  the  times, 
even  they  who  would  be  natural  are  compelled 
to   adopt   the  wretched   habit   of   evasion  and 
semi-hypocrisy.     This,  of  course,  leads  to  inju- 
rious  reticence,   and    this    habit    of    reticence 
affects   not  only  social  circles  injuriously,   but 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 


28 


every  circle.     The   ,nau   of   business  does   not 
dare  to  reveal   the   state  of  his  business,  does 
not  dare  to  say  how  little  capital  he  is  doin- 
business  on,  and  so  evasion  and  deceit,  false! 
liood  and  pretentiousness,  even  lying  itself,  are 
the  inevitable  resorts  of  his  policy.     These  are 
tl-e   things  that  honeycomb  the   foundation  of 
credit   and   charge   the   air   full   of    su.spicion. 
which   trade,  having   breathed,   becomes   para- 
lyzed through  all  her  members.     Into  the  same 
dreadful  habit  falls  the  politician  who  thinks 
one  thing  and  says  another.     He  knows  what 
>s  the  truth,  but  he  won't  say  it.     Pie  is  not 
frank  and  open  and  fair  in  his  talk  to  his  con- 
stituents.     And    so    strongly   has    this    habit 
become   settled   as   a   rule   and    policy   amo„. 
Amencan  politicians,  that  he  is  called  the  best 
politician  who   can   conceal   most  and   deceive 
most.     He  who  has  that  which  enables  him  to ' 
be  a  first-class,  gilt-edged  rascal  is  called  a  first- 
class,  successful  politician. 

And  the  same  tendency  can  be  seen  in  the 
pnlpit  Many  men  in  the  pulpits  of  the  coun- 
try to-day  are  not  .saymg  their  latest  thought  to 
tlieir  people.     If  you  ask  them  why,  they  will 


24 


A  PKErARATOIlY  C  HAPTER. 


tell  you  because  they  dare  not  do  it.     The  man 
will   say,  "If  I  should  tell  my  people  what  I 
think  about  the  inspiration   of  some  books  of 
the  Old  Testament ;  if  T  should  give  them  my 
ideas  of  the  book  of  Job,  such  as  all  scholars, 
know  ;    if  I  should  even  enumerate  the  errors 
of    translation    which    my   acquaintance   with 
Greek    and    Hebrew    liave    brought    me,    my 
church  would  rise  up   and  demand  my  dismis- 
sion, my  deacons  would  charge  me  with  danger- 
ous tendencies,  and  my  brothers  in  the  ministry 
around    about    me    would    among    themselves 
speak  of  my  honesty  as  folly,  and  in  council 
declare  me  an  unsafe  guide." 

The  reason  why  so  many  preachers  are  dull 
is  because  they  are  repetitious.  There  is  no 
fragrance  in  the  flowers  they  gather  week  by 
week  for  their  people,  because  they  are  the 
faded  flowers,  the  withered  bouquets  that  have 
hung  in  the  theological  garrets  for  a  hundred 
and  iifty  years.  No  wonder  that  the  people 
sniff  them  and  find  no  pleasure  therein;  no 
wonder  that  they  endure  preaching  rather  than 
love  it.  There  is  nothing  more  strongly  de- 
manded  by  the   necessities  of   the  times  than 


riie  man 
I  what  I 
books  of 
liem  my 
scholars . 
10  errors 
ce  with 
lie,    my 

dismis- 

danger- 

ninistry 

imselves 

council 

ire  dull 
3  is  no 
^eek  by 
ire  the 
it  have 
Lundred 
people 
in;  no 
3r  than 
r\y  de- 
s  than 


25 


OUTDOOit   LIFE. 

that  each  proacW  «hon,„  ,,„.;„  to  bo  hone.st 

'"   J'-'al-ng  w,ti,   l,i«   1,,,,,,,,,   ,,,„^,„ 

appear    ,ntellect„al.,.   con.scieutiou.s    and    gi.e 

of  trutl,  a„,l  tl,c  result  of  Uk  latest  ir.ve.stiga- 
'°"  ^«  '-^  «t»''ent  of  truth.     The  human  mh>d 

-  a  growth,  not  a  .substance,  and  i„  order  that 

'     ^''""''^  ^  !»-«'•  it«  growth  must  be  kept 
heiore  the  mnmln      Tf  •     r.       ,,  ^ 

people.     It  IS  like  that  Apocalyptic 

^eo    which  Join.   drean.ed,   ^.- whicWid 

0.  the  heamg  of  the  nation.."     So  a  preach- 

-  nnu  should  ripen  its  month,,  fruit4e  for 

1     Cf  "/''^''-^'  "''   "'^  ™^-^'''-«  -hich 
e  wuK  s  of  occasion  would  blow  down  from 

™K.he,s.s  leaves  are  blown  from  the  tree. 
Id  be  sue    suggestions  as  never  before  came 

Ad    the  people  who  sit  under  the  shadow  of 

'   "fl«""g«   over   new.      And    this   habit    of 
«peal<n,g  out   one's  latest  thought  in  the    ni^ 

!,  :  "  ".'7^^'-^"''  "^-^^fi-"*  agitations,  and  keep 
the  pansh  .surrounding,  lively  with  „.enta]  i„! 


26 


A  PRKPARA'rORY   CHAPTER. 


11  r 


tcrclianges  and  spiritual  impartnients.  The 
man  whose  parisli  to-niglit  is  cahu,  hut  r^ahn 
with  tlie  (lead  level  of  mental  stagnation, 
should  ,'it  once  start  a  hreeze  in  that  parish,  and 
stir  his  people  with  rippling  discussions  ;  and  if 
enemies,  if  bigotry,  if  envy  seize  upon  his 
frankness  and  his  intellectual  candor  and  his 
spiritual  honesty,  and  strive  to  convert  them 
into  weapons  to  fight  him  wdth,  he  should  stand 
forth  in  the  might  of  genuine  natnre,  panoplied 
in  the  power  of  truthful  studentship,  clothed  in 
the  armor  of  one  who  speaks  what  the  Lord 
gives  him  to  say,  whether  man  will  hear  or 
forbear.  And  so  actintr  he  would  find  that 
danger  would  cease  to  be  danger,  risk  would 
lose  its  characteristic  of  peril,  and  to  his  own 
life  would  come  a  magnificent  growth,  and  into 
it  his  people  would  grow  with  him. 

I  hold  that  beyond  all  other  men  clergymen 
should  live  as  much  as  possible  out  of  doors. 
Like  plants  they  need  air,  they  need  sunshine, 
they  need  the  ministrations  of  the  natural.  In 
this  w^ay  they  become  simple,  devout,  bold,  and 
true.  Nature  inspires  no  cowards.  Nature  be- 
gets no  pedantry.     Nature  suggests  no  bigotry. 


oiiTDooK  r.irK. 


27 


T  .0  spirit  of  dcvolioM   f.lK.rnaolc.s  a,no„g  tI,o 
'"ll«.No,tl,o,- saint  >.or  sinner  «m  truly  vvor- 
J.l'  God  wlHle  ho  sloops  un.Ior  a  shi„.,od  roof. 
Visions  of  dnty,   vast,  snl,lin,e,  ovorwl,olminT 
never  con.o  to  ono  who  sloops  in  a   cha.nb:; 
wl,oson,oasnronM,.ntistonl,ytwolv-o.     Younn.st 
leavo  yonr  l,o„sos,  frionds,  and  go  forth  into  the 
open  a,r.     Leave  the  eity  and  go  into  the  wilder- 
ne«s,  and  there,  far  from   hnman   habitations, 
make  your  hod  beneath  the  .stars,  and  lift  your 
eyes  toward  the  niagniflcent  don.e  in  which  they 
^lune,   and    feel   the   weight   of    the    i,n„,en.se 
^    settling  on  jou,  or  over  you  can  know 
le  n,aje.sty  of  God  or  the  solemn  joy  of  which 
the  sou   «  capable  when  it  is  lifted  heavenward 
in  worship. 

Not  only  is  the  religions  nature  developed  by 
outdoor  .nfluence,  not   only  does  nature  develop 
tlie  ,spn.,t„al  faculties,  but  the  .social  nature  is 
influenced   to   an   equal   extent  by  her  benign 
power.     Nature  is  full  of  voices,  and  they  are 
.-^n  happy.     Nature  never  scolds,  never  chafes, 
never  frets,  never  worries  one.     She  is  full  of 
music,  and  fun  and  merriment  are  her  delight 
I  have  lam  for  many  an  hour  hidden  amid  "her 


28 


A  rREPAllATORY  CIIAITl-Mt. 


11 


leaves  aiid  lior  grasses,  and  seen  denizens  of 
lake  and  forest  act  out  their  natures  unoon- 
seious  of  my  ()l)servali()n.  I  liave  laughed  till 
tears  stood  in  my  eyes  to  see  the  playfulness  of 
her  (ish  and  lier  hirds,  tlie  gandjols  iind  misr 
chievous  praidvs  of  lier  animals. 

Now,  all  men  are  made  to  laugh.  Every  man 
can  be  tickled  if  you  find  the  right  nerve.  No 
man  is  so  crusty  that  he  w(m't  mellow  up  at  a 
picnic,  or  on  a  fishing  trip,  or  at  a  fox  hunt. 
And  the  laughing  which  naiure  prompts  is 
never  bitter,  never  cynical.  Nature  brings  out 
the  real  human  that  lies  latent  in  one,  uncaps 
the  choked-up  springs  of  merriment  in  the 
bosom,  and  sets  the  rivulet  of  laughter  flowing. 
The  laughter  of  indoor  life  is  smothered,  con- 
strained, puckered  into  forms  of  politeness ; 
but  the  laughter  of  the  outdoor  life  is  large 
and  hearty  and  thoroughly  jolly.  "No  one 
laughs  well  who  doesn't  laugh  loud,"  says  the 
old  proverb ;  and  the  proverbs  of  a  people  are 
the  wisdom  of  a  people  condensed.  The  fact  is, 
the  funniest  laughter  is  the  laughter  that  one 
has  alone.  It  is  very  wxdl  to  laugh  in  comj^any, 
for  custom  and  benevolence  alike  demand  it; 


Ol'TDOOR  |,11.-E. 


29 


mit,  for   the   mast   part,   company  langlit.-r  is 
forced.     It  i.,  a  ma.le-np,  artificial  t\uu^.  „v  d.se 
too   .sli,^],t   an.i   .lecrous   to  l,e  i.-arly  and  ade- 
quate.    J!„t  wl.en   tl,e  ..pirit   of  (■„„  g^t.s  into 
one  wl.en  all  alone  by  hin,.self  to  nnel,  an  extent 
as  to  faiily  pos,se«»  him,  and  ho  .sit.s  down  and 
l'"fs  l,i»  l,an,ls  again,st  hi.s  .ide.s,  and  opens  hi, 
."onth,    an,l    hegin.s   to    .sway    backward     and 
forward  nn.il    his   eyes  rain  will,    n.irth,   and 
he  fan-ly  wrestles  inwardly  with  his  hilarity; 
then  his  laugliter  i.s  the  gennine  thing.     W,  live 
witlnn-doors    too    mnch    to   be    happy.      U!o 
beco„,es  too  n„,ch  of  a  routine,  an  e.xhibition 
of  one  and  the  same   experience.     We  shoLdd 
seek  more  variety.     We  shonld  open  ourselves 
up  to  the  exhilaration  of  incident.     We  shonld 
go   forth   and   stand    in    the    midst   of    many 
objects,  and  rejoice  o,n-  eyes  with  varied  si<d>ts 
and  court  contact  witli  the  accidental  and°the 
romantic. 

In  this  way  we  .should  find  refre.shment ;  our 

days  would  tingle  with  novel  sensations,  and  we 

should  go  to  our  hon>es  at  night  as  bees  fly  to 

tlieir  liives,  liavinir  visifpfl    -i   rl.^,^     r  n  . 

y       viii^   vi&itea  .1  dozen  fields,  and 

drawn  the  sweetne^^.  iv(\^-    -v   ^i 

-vvcyiiieso  iroiu  a  thousand  flower- 


^'  If 


«1      " 


30 


A  PREPARATORY  CHAPTER. 


ii 


It  It 


II!  hi 


Clips.     In  this   way   we   should   become    thor- 
oughly healthy;    and   health    is   something  of 
which  we  have  all  heard,  but  which  few  have 
ever  had.      They  say  there   is   such  a   thing! 
Doctors  tell  us   of    it,  and  we    pay    them   for 
the  news,  —  that  is  all.     Life  means  eating  and 
sleeping.     He  who  can't  eat  his  food  with  a 
relish,  —  and  a  goodly  amount  of  it,  too,  —  he 
who    can't    sleep    soundly   at   night    and   late 
in   the   morning,  does   not  know   what  living 
means.      Dyspepsia  is  a  bad   bedfellow.      The 
Florentines,  after  Dante  had  written  his  won- 
derful poem  called  *'  The  Inferno,"  used  to  point 
him  out  as  he  passed  along  the  streets  of  the 
city,  saying,  "  There  goes  the  man  who  has  been 
to  hell."     A  dyspeptic  does  not  need  to  be  a 
poet  to  have  that  remark  made  of  him. 

But  how  glorious  is  man's  estate  after  he  has 
eaten  a  good  dinner!  What  solid  dignity  he 
has  attained  !  What  a  satisfactory  sense  of  sub- 
stantialness  is  his  !  How  the  blessed  feeling  of 
fulness  adds  to  his  self-respect !  And  with  what 
an  unctuous  complacency  he  can  regard  his  fel- 
low-men !  A  full  stomach  is  the  very  mother 
of    sweetest    charity.      Our    fathers    had    the 


OUTDOOR  LIFE.  31 

insane  idea  that  early  rising  was  proper;  but 
our  fathers -worthy  men  as  they  were -had 
tlieir  dekisions,  and  were  victims  of  misconcep- 
tions. They  lacked  experience,  and  most  of 
"s  know  that  they  were  mistaken.  I  agree  with 
the  witty  Frenchman  who  said  that  "  The  only 
reason  why  a  man  should  wake  up,  was  found 
>n  the  fact  that  it  enabled  him  to  roll  over  and 
go  to  .sleep  again  !  " 

The  trouble  of  it  is,  friends,  people  do  not 
know   how   to   appropriate    the    influences    of 
nature.      Most    people    know    enough    to   eat 
bread  when  it  is  on  the  table  in  front  of  them 
But  how  to  eat  the  food  that  is  in  the  wind  and 
sunshine,  that  lurks  in  the  fragrance   of   the 
fields,  and  descends  in   manna  from   the   sky 
they  are  ignorant.     They  are  so  artificial  that 
they  do  not  know  how  to  live  a  natural   life 
llioy  go  at  nature  awkwardly.     The  life  at  sea- 
side hotels  and  at  mountain  resorts  is  too  often 
a  broad  farce.     No  wonder  that  the  humorist  and 
he  satirist  find  it  serviceable  for  their  purpo.se. 
r^oafing  IS  not  an  art;  it  is  a  gift;  and  one  of 
the  best  gifts  ever  bestowed  upon  man.     Indo- 
lence in  the  economy  of  nature  is  np.,i ,.  ._ 


32 


A  rUEPARATORY  CIIAP'J'KR. 


h(  m ' 


sleep.      A  man   don't   need   to  be  lazy  all  the 
while,  but  off  and  on  as  it  were;  and  by  h[)o1I.s  ; 
and  tho  spells  shouldn't  be  too  far  apart.     I've 
seen   men   in  the  woods  that  were  as  much  out 
of  place  as  a  buzz-wheel  in  church,     'l^hey  took 
their   activity    there;   they    took    their   energy 
there;   they  took  their  anxieties  there.     Th(;y 
were  always  running  from  spot  to  spot;  always 
in  full  swoop.     They  never  found  a  pc^rch  nor 
settled  down.     Now,  the  human  system  is  like 
an  engine ;  it  can  run  fast,  run  far,  run  long. 
It  can  do  royal   service  and    perform   manifold 
ministries.      But  there  comes  a  time   when   it 
must  be  slowed  up  and  run  into  the  shop  for 
repairs. 

^  Now,  among  all  the  experiences  of  outdoor 
life  — happy  and  grateful  as  they  are—  not  one 
is  more  satisfactory  than  that  of  sleeping  when 
your  bed  is  made  under  tlie  pines,  or  on  the 
shore  of  still  lakes,  or  the  banks  of  murmuring 
streams.  Night  invites  you  to  repose,  and 
slumber  with  gentle  movement  takes  you  to 
her  embrace,  as  a  mother  lifts  her  drowsy  child 
to  the  cradle  of  her  bosom. 

What  a  luxury  such  sleep  is,  and  how  little 


Oin'DOOi;  UFi;.  33 

of    the   real   quality   wo   have    in    the    eities ' 
Imagine  your  becl-cha,nl,er  o{  ,„lorous  hark,  and 
your   hed    of    iH„,go„t    houglKs.     Your    eouch 
made  under  murmuring  trees  and  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  lazily  moving  water,  whose  n,otions 
caress  rather  than  chafe  the  shore.     Stretched 
your  full  length  on  such  a'  couch,  spread  in  such 
a  place,  the  process  of  falling  asleep  becomes  an 
expenenoc.     You  lie  and  ,vatch  yourself  to  ob- 
serve   the   gradual    departure   of    your   senses. 
Little  by  little  you  feel  yourself  passing  away, 
feiowly  and  easily  as  an  ebbing  tide  you  begin 
0  pass  into  the  dim  and  insensible  realm  beyond 
the  line  of  feeling.     At  last  a  moment  comes  in 
which  you  know  you  are  pasdng  over  the  very 
verge  of   consciousness.     You  are   aware  that 
you  are  about  to  fall  asleep.     Your  cheek  but 
partially   interprets    the   cool   pressure   of   the 
mght  wmd;  your  ears  drowsily  surrender  the 
J>"ger.ng   murmur   of    beach   and    pine;    your 

eyes  roop  their  lids  little  by  little;  your  nose 
•sl.ghtly  senses  the  odor  of  the  piny  air,  as  you 

.nochameally  draw  it  in;  the  chest  falls  as  it 
passes  as  mechanically  out,  and  then  -you  are 
asleep.  '^ 


34 


A    IMJKl'AIJA'roKY   (MIAITKH 


Tli(>  liours  pass,  and  still   you  sleep  on.     The 


hody,  ill  ol)e(lieiu'(»   1 


o  s()iM(>  occult  liiw  of  for 


ce 


wi 


(liin  the  iuseusihh^  ffiiine,  still  keeps  u\)  its 
resj)! rations;  hut  yon  are  sonu!\vhere  —  sleep- 
ing.    At  last  the    i)ine   ahove  jon,  in  the  deep 


hush  whiel 


1  precHM 


U\s  11 


le  coinnig  of  dawn,  stills 


its  monotone,  a,u(]   siliMiee   weaves  its  airy   weh 


amid    the    motionl 


ess 


^tcm. 


Tl 


le    water    falls 


asleep.     The  loon's  head   is   under  it 
id   tl 


s   s 


potted 


Winn;,  and  the  owl  heeomes  mute.  The  deer 
has  left  the  shore,  and  lies  curved  in  its  mossy 
bed.  The  rats  no  longer  draw  their  tiny  wake 
across  the  creek,  and  the  frogs  have  ceased  their 


croal 
and 


\in<*'. 


All 


is  quiet.      In  llu^  profound  quiet, 


unconscious  of  it  all,  the  sleeper  sleeps. 
What  sleep  such  sleeping  is  !  and  what  a  ministry 
is  being  ministered  unto  mind  and  body  through 
the  cool,  pure  air,  ])ungent  with  gummy  odors 
and  strong  with  the  smell  of  the  sod  and  the 
root-laceil  mould  of  the  underlyinu:  earth! 

We  wear  out  too  fast,  friends,  in  this  country. 
We  value  ourselves  too  nuu^h  as  if  we  were  bits 
of  machinery.  Our  lives  ascend  like  the  rocket 
—  suddenly  exi)lode  and  leave  darkness.  They 
should  rise  like  the  sun  in  gradual  ascension, 


OUTDOOK   l,IK|.;. 


JW 


an,l  doclino  wit.li  «„,  evon   uiov .„(,  of  ,„„.x- 

''•"'"■'" '''■'■"  l«««i"K  «'>>   into  utl„,.i-  realms 

ri>e  prohl..,,,  of  tl,e   „oxt   (,lm-|,y  y.ars,   i„   t|,is 
country,   ,.s  „ot   ono   of   uion,.y-,naki„fr,  or   of 
nMM,]-n,aldng,    or     of     «onl-nmI<ing,    l,„t     tl„. 
l"'"l'l'^'"    i«   ono   tl.at  nncU-rlics    all   tl,.«,.    a>,,l 
""     tl".'     proper    solution    of    which     tl„.y    all 
doi..n,,l_it     is    l,o,Iy-n,a,kin,i;.     The    hirlhs    of 
the  future    nuist    1„,    healthy    births.      What 
i«    the     use     of    hringing     eripples     iijto    the 
vvorkl,  whether   they   are    crippled    in   linih,   in 
stomach,  m  size  and  formation  of  the  chest  or 
in  the  hloo,l-systen.  ?     As  a  country,  we  are  giv- 
-ng  birth  to  a  monstrous  numher  of  idiots  and 
weakhngs,  and   of  incipient,   emlnyo  criminals. 
We  can't  alford  to  keep  on  ta.xing  our  in.lu.s- 
tnes  with  their  .support,  imperilling  .society  with 
their  violence,  or  burdening  our  .sympathies  with 
their  presence.     Healthy  parentage  is  a  .sohition 
of  this  problem.     Yon  can't  expect  that  uervou.s 
motheriiood    and   fevered    fatherhood  will    ever 
■stand  parents  to  healthy  offspring.     The  laws  of 
l.fe,  about  which  the  aver,age  man  and  woman 
are  so  ignorant,  should  b,;  taught  and  obeyed  as 
the  ten  commandments,  for  t 


next 


'ifty  y 


cars. 


86 


A   PKEPAlJATOIfY  CIIAPTEIl. 


From   the  great   outdoors  of   God  — pure   air, 
strong  wind,  warm  .sunsliiiu3,  plain  diet,  restful 
periods  of  time,  and  the  religious  sensitiveness 
which  is  closely  connected  with  these  influences 
of  Nature,  — from  these  must  come  our  salva- 
tion.    If  we   would    brick   up  th  ;  '  .  ^s  of  our 
furnaces  and  put  the  old-fashioned   :    j-place,  or 
even    the  open    grate,  into    the    rooms   of   our 
houses,   we  would   prove    hy  that  act  that  our 
civilization,  at  least,  isn't  stupid,  and  that  we 
are  too  sensible  to  pay  men  for  killing  us  with 
their  infernal  inventions. 

The  prime  object  of  architecture  should  be  to 
bring  as  much  of  the  outdoors  as  is  possible 
within-doors.     Many  American  houses  are  more 
like  ornamental  prisons  than  places  of  happy 
residence.     We  furnish  our  parlors  with  every- 
thing but  fresh  air  and  sunshine.     We  should 
have   more   glass   in   our   windows   and  screen 
them   less    with    lieavy   draperies.     You    can't 
import  an  Axminster  so  fine,  or  a  damask  from 
Lyons  so   rich,  or  a  Persian   ruG:  so  frorc-eous 
that  a  streak  of  warm  sunshine  on  the  floor  is 
not,  for  the  purposes  of  health  and  happiness, 
worth  them  all.     No  colored  marble,  or  massive 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 


37 


1 


carving  of  onk  nn,l  wal„„t,  nan  n.ako  good  to 
ih.  Uuni\y    lif,.    ,1,.    li,.ei,laco    of    on,-   father.,. 
now  p„,.o  ,a,„l   sweet  i.s  the  air  of  a  roo„,  thn.s 
venflato,!  !     IIow  merry  the  play  of  sparks  and 
the    craelding   of    |„-ands;    lunv   clieerful    tl,e 
glowing  eoals ;  how    pure   the   wliitened   a.sl,  • 
J'ow  genml  tl,e  i.ssuing  wannth.     Our  .sleepin.^ 
apartments  are  often  wore  like  cells  than  cham! 
bers      The    moment   yon   get    below  a  certain 
level  ot  wealth  in  onr  cities,  the  chan.bers  in 
which  men  and  won.en  sleep  are  filled  with  an 
atmosphere  den.se,  dan,p,  and  vitiated  by  being 
repeatedly  breathed.     Those  of   „s   who   have 
.ved  m  camp,  who  have  slept  for  weeks  under 
the  .sky,  with  tlie  delicious  night  winds  blowing 
tl.e  odor  of  fily  and  pine  into  onr  nostrils,  can 
recall  wl>at  a  smothering  sensation  we  experi- 
enced the  first  night  we  were  compelled  to  sleep 
m  the  chamber  of  a  house.     What  a  pity  that 
-en  -11  stint  themselves  of   the  free  .4  and 
ock  themselves  i„  f.om  the  bright  .sunshine, 

bh.  And  above  all,  wl,at  a  pity  that  men 
W.11  allow  then-  characters  to  be  shaped  by 
influences  which  contract  and  warp  them,  when 


if 


11 


38 


A    rilKI'AllATORY   (^IIAl'TER. 


I'oimd  al)oiit  oil  all  sidus  iiilliioiices  have  been 
provided  calculatcMl  to  inako  thoin  wide,  gener- 
ous, and  syinnietrical. 

The   brightest   sign   of  the   times  is  the  fact 
that  men    and  women    are    beginning   to   turn 
their  faces  toward  the  country,  and  in  the  good 
old-fashioned  way,  too.     They  are  beginning  to 
long   for   easier    lives,    for   quietness    and    the 
absence   of  parade.     The   gilded    bells   on   the 
king's  fool  are  not  called  music  in  the  palace 
to-day,  and  the  gaudy  tinsel  of  his  habit  is  no 
longer  admired.     It  is  a  hopeful  sign  when  the 
wealthy  merchant  goes   back  to   his  ancestral 
home,  to  the  little  farm  where  he  was  born,  and 
finds  enjoyment  in  once  more  holding  the  plough 
and  mowing  the   meadow  ;  finds  delight  in     '  ■ 
sleek  oxen,  his  fine-bred  colt,  and  his  herd  oi 
Jerseys.     It  is  a  healthful  sign  when  the  woman 
of  fashion  leaves  her  Saratogas  at  home,  and, 
tucking  a  few  necessary  articles  of  comfortable 
clothing  into  her  valise,  starts  with  her  husband 
for  a  two  months'  trip  in  the  Adirondacks,  or  a 
month's  camping  and  yachting  on  Lake  Cham- 
plain.      It's   a  healthful  sign  when  our  young 
men  take  to    boating    and   ball-playing,   when 


OUTDOOR  LIFE. 


89 


the  pliant  rod  bccon.os  a  fascination,  and   the 
long-range  rille  a  deliglit.     It  is  a  Iiopeful  sign 
v/hen  onr  young  ladies  are  seen  studying  flori- 
culture,   learning    to    sit    a    saddle    properly, 
acquiring  suppleness  of  limb  on  graceful  skates,' 
and  laughingly  facing  after  dinner  a  four  miles' 
tramp.     It   is   a   hopeful   sign    when   men  are 
beginning  to  ask  themselves  why  the  old  fire- 
place was  banished  and  to  demand  its  restora- 
tion ;  to  ask  why  the  windows  of  their  dwelling 
are  drawn  by  the  architect  so  small,  and  why 
parlors  are  made  so  gloomy,  more  fit  for  the 
residence   of    a   hermit   than   a   happy-hearted 
man.     These  are  the  bright  evidences,  the  rosy 
tints   flushing  with    delicate  warmth    the  sky 
which  declare  that  the  dawn  of  a  new  day  is  at 
hand;  a  day  in  which  we  shall  get  back  to  the 
simplicity  of  nature,  shall   put  a  proper  value 
upon   the   charm   of  quietness,  shall  bring  the 
hght  and  purity  of  the  outdoor  world  into  our 
houses,  ay,  and  into  our  souls  too. 

The  future  will  be  wiser  and  better  than  we 
have  been.  It  will  be  more  frank,  more  gen- 
uine, more  manly  and  womanly.  The  men  and 
women  of  the  future  will  be  so  strong  in  these 


40 


A    IMlKI'ARAroilV   CIIAPTFCR. 


virtuos    that,    ihoy    will    ha 

hv 

til 


vo   no  motive  to   ho 


pocritos.     Socii'ly  will   oau-v  people  Uy  what 
ey  are    intrinsically,  an.l    not    hy  what  tlieir 
fathers   gave    them,    or    they    themselves   liave 


acipiired,  of  matiM'ial 


{T 


i»in  and  aiiitieial  honor 


IJy  and  hy  we  shall  stoj)  hnildin--  I 


lonses,  a 


nd 


no 


to    hnildi 


li 


ing    iiomes.      I  lonses    can   he    made    of 


inort,ar    and    hrick,    of    marhl( 


iml     polished 


woods,  hnt   home  can   he  made  onlv  from  si 
shine,  from   pure  air,  from   tl 
dows,   from 


ni- 


owers   in    tho  win- 


m 


ooi\   liealth   and  contented   minds. 

nry  will   take  n}) 


exanune  our 


The  architects  of  the  next  cent 

the    })Lnis  of   our   dwellings,    will 

tenement  houses  and  say,  '^  How  could  men  and 

women  have  lived   in   such   places?     How  could 

they  have  slept  in  such  chaud)ers  ?     Where  could 

the    sunshine    and    pur 


e    air   tluy  nee( 


l(>d  1 


lavc 


come    from  ?     How    could    tl 


climhed    so    many    stairs?      li 


leir    women     have 
ow    could     their 


lui 


ngs   have   stood    the  dust  of  their    f 


uiaiaces 


Wl 


lere  were  the  playgrounds  for  the  children? 


They  will  read  of  our  social   hahit,^ 


peruse  the 


stories  of  our  hypocrisies,  of  onr  frauds  and  onr 
shams,  and  exclaim,  '•  Flow  could  they  have  heen 
so  insincere,  so  pretentious,  so  artificial  in  their 


onrnooit  mfk 


standards  of  j,„|. 


:">('nl.  and  M 


wil 

•I 


x'H'.icMoj, 


0  '» 


<'I.11M1. 


^''"MOU.C.    „H.(ln,dsoro„,.CHK)|. 


Til 


41 


^y 


II 


stnir?"     0 
it  will  1)0  i\ 


^'^^  ''^>"M   uum  .-Mid   vv( 


'"'«"f'ial  liahilswill  In. 


lioidd 


1 


10  niai 


wear  siu;|,   ,]i 


Jnspoclod,  and 


"l>">i'.sas  wcmIo.     K„.|i 


^'•^•^^'s,  ...n.l   .ncn   drink  s„oh 


laf,  WOMK^Ii 


!('   til 


(!<)inniun-.scn 


so 


"<■  IS  mmin*'-  wl 


H'  (!Usf,()Mi 


of  truth  I 
tlio  ndo. 

^^ail  to  that  flit 


'""    '''^   ^^'^''ion,   tho   f,,,„i, 


kill 


and  tl 


\n(\ss 


U) 


«n"l)h-(;itjofnatiir. 


(n'(» 


frank. 


.'ind  i 


nn'rthfiil, 


'■"('  m  tho  oiitd 


K^'JJinno,  and 


'^'^^^^'^  .shall  1,0  i„|,rod 
^vorld,  and   iniitatod 
sliall  <hon  1 


^vlumallthatisbeaiitif,,!, 

"•^'  ''•'^•J»'  ;  all  that  is' 

in   what  (Un\  Jias 


I'l'.iiid 


""'<'<!  into  tho  1 


1  vo. 


ni   tho  livos  of  tl 


'onios  of  the 


and  who  shall  ho  1 


lose  wIjo 
'«4>Py  in  tlieir 


I  if 

11 


mi 


\ 


LAKE    CIIAMPLAI 


N. 


PART   I. 
Tm  TR.M>IT10NAL  ANI>  JUSTOIUC  P.jnjOB. 

C,rA,rr.,,^,  the  ,„a„,  was  the  last  of  a  ]on. 

w.th  a  courage  tl.at  was  of  the  highest  .nd  a 
Por.severa.ce  'that  never  faltered  fo'r  t   o       „ 
d-'ed  years,  sought  for  one  thin.- the  N 
-t  passage.     Charnph.in.  the "^.e  "^^^^^^ 
westernn^ost   point   of   tl,eir  pro.  e'ss     ;     , 
Iieroic  seeking.     With  n,.      ^^^^^^    ">  then- 
ended.     And lere  if  h      7'  ""  ""^  '""="  ''- 
tl'e   Jong   see    „'       f   ^  "''''"''''  "'  "^  '^^^^' 
find,    by    s    h "  ,        *""""'   ""^""^-  t'' 

Cathay,'en;e     :,JT:''    *"^    ^--«^    *. 

f-«  Cha.ph,„,  What  a  M^or  r  ™L^^^^^^^^^^ 
P-,  there  have  heen  wars,  Ivo^l  '^ 


f 


44 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


birth  of  a  mighty  government  and  a  developing 
civilizati(»n  to  whicli  the  history  of  this  lake 
furnishes  a  key.  Before  Champlain  there  were 
myths,  traditions,  legends,  and  suggestive 
murmurings  of  knowledge  disbelieved  for  a 
thousand  years. 

EARLY    TRADITIOXS    OF    AMERICA. 

For  the  mouth  of  antiquity  was  not  silent 
in  resi3<3ct  to  this  western  world  of  ours. 
Hesiod,  with  his  finger  on  the  sounding  chord, 
sang  of  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  and 
poured  his  prophetic  song  out  into  the  otherwise 
stirless  gloom  that  hung  darkly  above  the 
western  sea.  Plato  in  faultless  prose  told  the 
story  of  Atlantis,  that  mystical  island  far 
beyond  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  as  his  ancestor 
Solon  had  received  it  from  the  lips  of  the  old 
Egyptian  priests  of  Sais,  who  held  for  truth, 
beyond  doubt,  what  modern  savants,  because  of 
their  ignorance  perhaps,  have  looked  upon  as  a 
myth  and  a  mythical  catastrophe.  The  Plioeni- 
cian  sailors  swore  that  their  eyes  had  seen  a  fair 
and  lovely  country  lying  low  down  in  the  west- 
ern waves,  and  Carthaginian  mariners  indorsed 


f 


imn 


i 


the     story     and    declared     thit    th  ■ 

had    touched    the   go)de„   sa'd       f  ■'"""^ 

'••^'-''^  in  unknown^,  w  :    \:  ""'""T 

and  sweet  with  breath  of'  J          T  """  '°^^ 

Pythea,  a  sailor  oToMG^'f'"-     ^"^ 

A'exandor  the  Great  toM:;V"^*r"^ 
Mediterranean  gossips  of  7  .  ^^ondering 
"orth   and   west     r     i     ,   """'^  '^'"=  *°  '^e 

■  -rid,  wl::i.  r;  ;;,,—  «^  ^^^ 

men  were   clotlied   like  anim-,).       ,    ,  °'' 

ofWaies-sosaythC        ,/'"'" 
f'-om  voyages  strange  sto      '  o7  7"      ''"' 

%ond  the  sunset,  a^d,  s2:   1,""'^  '^"'^ 
many  shins  inrf  ^  '"""g  toith  again  with 

heisshij:  ^r^r"^'^^•--'"- 
J-»onsteL;rsu::::rrf;;rr"^ 

be.ng  punished   because   he  sailed  I        ' 

seas  of  God      Tl,»     ■        /  ^"•^'^"d  the 

.11  ^^'ife^rcant  lands  wlierp  r1i,r«u  xi 

gods  heyond  the  sunset  and  the  su^t  17      '" 
Then  eo,ne  the  Norsemen -th.,;C,^^^^ 
"ces   who   swarmed   out   of   fi       .        '^^^  sea- 


46 


li 


jllil 


I! 


liiiiiji 
I    '.'J 


Ml 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


down  ujoon  England,  Belgium,  and  Normandy, 
and,  buzzing  far  and  near,  pushed  their  fearless 
flight  as  far  as  Sicily  and  Southern  Italy. 
Then  they  turned  northward  and  in  S74  drew 
the  line  of  their  flight  as  far  as  Iceland,  six. 
hundred  miles  from  their  Norwegian  hive,  in 
the  wild  northern  seas.  In  1874,  tlie  descend- 
ants of  these  old  Sea  Kings  of  the  North  cele- 
brated not  the  centennial  but  the  rni/lennial  anni- 
versary of  their  settlement  in  Iceland. 

From  Iceland  to  Greenland  is  scant  two 
hundred  miles.  These  old  Norse  sailors  were 
brave  and  cared  no  more  for  wave  and  tempest 
than  the  stormy  pe' rel.  We  know  that  King 
Olaf's  ship,  the  Lo?ig  Seiyent,  was  a  hundred 
and  forty  feet  from  stem  to  stern,  and  that 
many  of  their  vessels  carried  full  two  hundred 
men.  With  such  ships  such  men  could  go  any- 
where and  laugh  —  as  the}^  did,  as  tliey  rolled 
over  them  and  through  it  —  at  billows  and 
storm.  And  in  985  Erik  the  Red,  with  twenty- 
five  ships,  set  sail  for  Greenland.  He  doubled 
Cape  Farewell  and  planted  a  colony  on  the 
eastern  coast  and  called  it  Eriksfiord.  For 
four   hundred   years   Greenland   was  a   see  of 


I 


TRADiTIONAL  AND  ,„«ro.l,C  PERIOD.  47 

papaj  Ronjo,  and  the  „a,„es  of  seventeen  ..o- 
cessive  bishops  can  bo  rpirl  ^v.   ^i 

Holy  Church      The   eoW  H  '""^  °' 

f     1       .    ,  colony  throve,  and  wherp 

o-da,  ,.  b,„en  land  and  inhospitable  ice  I 

hundred  fanns  and  villages  once  flourished. 

in   he  Sagas  it  is  written  that  in  906  Biarne 
Herjulfson,  a  son  of  Horiulf  o  N„ 
s-iilinr,  t        T    ,         "t-rjull,  a  Norse  navigator, 

cuhng  from  Iceland  to  Greenland,  was  blown  by 
«torm  far  west,  and  sighted,  amid  the  fo.s  Jhal 

wathed  n  a  M.foun,lan,.    He  did  nof  1 

home.     The  story  stn-red  the  very  souls  of  those 
Norse  seamen,  and  four  years  latp,-  ;     .1 
innn    t   -c   t.  •■  ^  t*^''  '»  the  year 

1000,  Leif  Enkson,   with   a    stout    ship  well 
panned,   sailed   forth   to    test   the   story  tTa 
He^ulfson  had  told.     They  reached  an  is  Id 
-Newfoundland,    doubtless  _  and    called    it 
H^and    and   then   a   wooded  coast-Nova 
6cot,a-and  named  it  Markland.     Then  thev 


is 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


lill'iH'' 


wintered  and  thus  the  coast  of  Massachusetts 
first  knew  the  white  man.  All  this  four 
hundred  years  before  Columbus. 

Then  followed  Thorwald,  brother  of  Leif 
Erikson,  in  1002.  For  three  years  he  dwelt  in 
Vinland  until  war  arose  between  him  and  the 
natives,  and  in  battle  he  was  killed.  And  so 
the  long  contest  that  is  not  wholly  ended  yet, 
although  a  thousand  years  have  nearly  passed, 
between  the  white  man  and  the  red  for  the 
possession  of  the  continent  began,  and  the  old 
Norseman  sailor  and  sea-king  was,  perhaps,  the 
first  white  man  that  fell  —  the  first  fruit  of 
that  harvest  of  death  that  the  red  sickles  of 
war  for  all  these  eight  hundred  and  eighty-eight 
years  have  been  busily  reaping. 

Then  came  others,  both  men  and  women,  to 
the  same  shore,  and  with  them  they  brought 
cattle  and  sheep,  and  made  a  brave  effort  to 
plant  themselves  in  the  country.  But  the 
natives  fought  them,  and  pirate  hordes  invaded 
Greenland  itself ;  and  later,  a  plague,  called  the 
Black  Death,  swept  over  Europe  and  Scandi- 
navia like  a  wave  of  desolation,  and  the  colony 
or  colonies^  in  Massachusetts  perished  and 
eventually  passed  from  the  minds  of  men. 


I  i 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD. 


49 


THE   OLD-TIME   MARINERS. 

Then  came  John  Cabot  and  his  son  Sebastian. 
The  Cabots  were  of  Venice, -City  of  tlie  sea 
-whose  streets  are  rivers  and  whose  carriaRes 
are   boats.     Tliere  was   John   Cabot  born   and 
reared   amid   gondolas   and  gondoliers  -  ships 
whose  sails  were  colored  silk  and  whose  com- 
manders were  proud  as  Doges.     The  dream  of 
sea-going   Venice   was   ever  of   the   West   and 
o     undiscovered  lands  beyond  the  setting  sun 
of  which  old  .sailors  for  a  thousand  years  had' 
told  strange  stories.     In  1496  the  Cabots  made 
home  in   Bristol,  England  -  whether  banished 
out  of  Venice  or  having  journeyed  forth  of  their 
own    free   will,   I   k„ow   not.      But   being  i„ 
Bnstol,  King  Henry  VII.,  anxious  to  win   his 
sliare   of  undiscovered   lands   and  gains,  gave 
hnn   permission   to  traffic  in  foreign  parts,  on 
condition  that  the  Crown  should  have  one-fifth 

of  all  the  profits ;  and  .so  the  old  Venetian,  in 
149/,  sailed  out  of  the  Bristol  Channel,  hoping 
to  find  a  western  passage  to  the  kingdom  of 
Cathay  or  China.  Having  sailed  west  by  north" 
seven  hundred  leagues,  as  he  computed,  he  came 


50 


LAKP:  ClIAMPLAIN. 


iilrfii 


I  if" 


upon  the  coast  of  Labrador,  which  he  supposed 
to  be  the  eastern  shore  of  China.     He  landed 
and  planted  the  Koyal  Standard  and  named  the 
country   Prima    Vista.     Then   did   the   flag  of 
England   first   wave  above   the  continent,  and 
the    brave    man   who  flung    its   red   folds    to 
the   breeze   was   born   in    ancient   Venice   and 
learned  the  art  of  sailing  ships  upon  the  tide- 
less  sea.     From  Labrador  he  sailed  southward 
along  the   coast  six   hundred  miles,  and  then 
returned  to  Bristol.     The  king  gave  him  a  pen- 
sion, and    empowered    him    to    "impress    six 
English  ships,  and  sailors  enough  to  man  them, 
and  go  forth  again  and  make  farther  search  for 
the  Northwest   passage."     But  for  some  cause 
the  expedition  never  sailed ;  and  of  John  Cabot 
we  know  no  more.     "  He  gave  England  "  —as 
a  writer  has  said  — "a  continent,  and  no  one  of 
all   the   English  race  knows  his  burial-place." 
All  this  a  full  year  before  Columbus  saw  the 
mainland  of  America. 

The  next  year,  1498,  his  son  Sebastian,  with 
two  ships,  sailed  from  England  for  China  and 
Japan,  still  seeking  the  Northwest  passage. 
He  sailed  far  up  what  we   know   as   Davis's 


TRADITiONAL  AND  IIISTOUIC   Pl-KIOD.  51 

Straits    in  the  month  of  Jul^,   1498,  and  waa, 
proba  ]y  tho  first  white  ,„an  that  ever  saw  the 
■narvel  of  twenty-four  hours  of  continuous  day- 
'fel't.     We  can  imagine  the  wonder  that  filled 
the  souls  of  these  old  mariners  as  they  sailed 
onward  day  after  day,  without  an  evening  and 
w.t  .ut   a   night.      Then   ca.ne    the    icebergs 
floatmg  down  li,e  mountain  ranges  upon  him 
and  he  wore  slap  and  sailed  steadily  southward 
stdl   searching  along  the  coast  for  the  North- 
west passage,  until  he  came  to  Chesapeake  Bay 
Vmeteen  years  later,  in  1517,  Sebastian  entered 
the  bay  to  which  a  century  later  Hen..y  Hudson 
mo    h,s    name,    and    thence,    in    subsequent 
voj..ges,  explored  the  coast  of  South  A.nerica 
as  far  as  La  Plata ! 

The  great  fact  to  -emember  in  this  connec- 
tion .s  that  it  was  in  virtue  of  these  discoveries 
of     he    two   Cabots- father    and    son -that 
2-^  h.d  claim  to  all  or  nearly  all  of  t 

al  the.rsearehn.g  they  never  found  the  mouth 
^  ctwience.     u  e  now  come  to  that. 


D 


wring  all  these   years   F 


stirred  herself   to  fhid 


ranee   had  not  be- 


ncw  worlds  or  claim 


a 


62 


LAKE   CIIAMl'LAUf. 


rfiare  of  those  already  found.  But  at  last 
irancs  I.  aroused  Imnself  and  said,  "Shall 
bpan,,  Tortngal,  and  England  divide  all 
Anienca  between  then,  and  give  n,e  no  share  ^ 
I  would  like  to  see  the  clause  in  Father  Adam's 
W.11  wlueh  bequeaths  that  vast  inheritance  to 
them. 

_  There  was,  at  that  time,  in  France  a  Floren- 
tine   skilled   in    navigation,  nan.ed  Verazzano, 
and  hnn  Krancis  sent  forth  to  make  discoveries 
He  landed   first  at  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  then 
saihng  northward  along  the  san,e  course  which 
the   Cabots   had   previously  sailed,  named  the 
whole  country,  ,vho.se  coast  ho  had  skirted  only 
New   France,  and  clain>ed  it  for  Francis.     At 
tins   point   we   see    the    conflicting  claims    of 
France  and  England  spring  np  side  by  side,  and 
the  cause  of  the  long  and  bloody  wars  between 
them  for  the  possession  of  the  continent  is  seen. 
In  ly.o  the  strife  really  began -a  strife  that 
never  ceased  until  Wolk  brought  it  to  a  close 
Wo  hundred  and  thirty-two  years  after  on  the 
1  Jams  of  Abraham. 

When  we  remember  the  size  of  the  vessels  in 
which  these  vast  voyages  and  astonishing  dis- 


coveries  were  n.ade,  the  ,„ind  is  mhd  with  a, 
tonishmont,.      ,T,ic,,„e,   (,,.,..        "-"  with  as- 

Martin  ,vo,,i...Mhat  tr^v;^:::—- 

»<^r,  pushed  northward  to   the  1       !        "'""" 

word  „,ay  be  „sed  to  ,1  ''^''ge-sounding 

of  onlv    ^  ,  '"■'''"  '°  ■''"'•'"  a  boat- 

Hugli  Willoiurbby  in     ',     .      ,     "    ^^'^•^'  S"- 

1     ,  o"^j?  ^n  a  bark  of  sp-imo  «   i 

dred  tons,  seeking  the  p.th  to  p,  .  "''°  ^  '»'»- 
a  Lapland  harbo;    anj  "'  ''"''^'^ '"'" 

--.     For  the  „  Lt  !       T  "''  ""'"^  '°^- 

wo-  fonnd  in  tbet  W       "''  '"  ''^  ^^^^ 
^^'ff  and  solid  a sli   "l-lf  ^^<^'  ^-- 

,be.-t,  haif-brother  ^t    i,,' l.r:;^^'  '"■ 
J'^roic  spirit,  sailin.  h„„,o^.        f  '"'"'' 

foundland   eo.st     "  '  "'"'"^'"'  ^'■«'"  «'e  New- 
tempest.     His  ,l,in  „,,  ',','"    '^^   '-i   great 

'» '-  ^.*:::;:::,  ';;:„: ': :;  ?' 'r  °' 

as  niirlit  camo  .] .  '^tern-sheets 

ii^iii;  uime  clown  noon  fl..i  ,.    n  • 

'"s  Bible  on  hi,  I  '""S  -^ea,  with 

"Fear  nnf   .  i  "^     "^        '^^^^^'  '^"^l  sa  d, 

^^^  not,  comrades,  Heaven   i.  o  . 

'-^s  by  land  "     And  "'^'  ^-^  '^^^ 

J    ctiiu.       And,  sayin(»'  t  lis;   h^  ^• 

from  sight.  ^        disappeared 


I   ! 


I 
I 


64 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


Henry  Hudson,  in   1G09,  in  a  little  craft  of 
thirty  tons,  called  the  Half  Moon,  seeking,  like 
all   others,   a   way    to    China,    penetrated    the 
depths  of   Hudson's   Bay,  and   wintered    amid 
its  awful  cold.     In  the  spring,  he,  with  his  son 
and    seven   other   faithful    souls,   were   turned 
adrift  by  his  mutinous  crew,  and  never  again 
were  they  heard  nor  seen  by  men.     The  mighty 
sheet  of  water  that  bears  his  name  is  both  his 
grave  and  monument. 

In  1603  Samuel  Champlain,  in  two  little 
barks,  of  twelve  and  fifteen  tons  burden,  pushed 
boldly  out  from  the  French  coast,  crossed  the 
Atlantic  safely,  and  returned  to  prepare  another 
voyage ! 

During  all  this  period  of  knowledge  and  igno- 
rance both — knowledge  on  the  part  of  those 
who  had  sailed  and  seen  ;  ignorance  on  the  part 
of  those  who  had  stayed  steadfastly  at  home, 
made  books  and  read  them,  and  know  nothing 
save  what  their  narrow,  local,  and  egotistic 
knowledge  of  their  own  country  and  literature 
gave  them :  a  period  covering  a  thousand 
years  at  least  —  the  fated  lake  now  known  as 
Lake    Champlain    lay    stretched    between    its 


I 


THAniTI„NA,,  AND  „r.STOUIC   PKR.OD.         65 

amphitl,oatro  _„f  ,,;„«  uko  «o„,e  ancient  arona 
awa,tn,g  th,.o„g,,  tl,o  .still  dark  hour,  of  ni.ht' 
the   connng  of   dawn,   the   struggle    and  "the 

audience.    We  sav  fated  •  f„  , 

say  lated  :  for  on  no  other  sino-Ie 

body  of  water  on  the  glol,e,  so  far  as  known  to 

.story      ,raditio„,  have  so  n.ny  hattles  hen 

fought  so  many  brave  „,e„  died,  .such  n.ighty 

-«e^  been  settled  by  the  sword,  or  such  2! 

tm  with  the  government  and  development  of 

^heu  n  r,aee  been  decided  by  the'arbitr! 
men  of  arms.  For  here  on  this  lake  the  two 
great  and  antagonistic  interpretations  of  Chris- 
t.an%  met,  in  the  armed  representatives  of  two 

years,  the  fierce  struggle  lasted  without  inter- 

—n,  save  when,  at  intervals,  like  two  strong 

estlers,  equally  matched,  by  mutual  consen! 

they  released  their  grip  each  on  the  other  a,"d 

and  summon  up  their  powers  for  a  longer  and 

deadlier  clinch.     For  it  m„«f  k 

tb^t  u  .  ''^   remembered 

tliat  It  was  not  in  Germinv  r.^  r 

jj  -Germany  or  Geneva,  at  the 

Hague   or  among  the  mountains  of  Southern 
France,  that  Protestantism  gained  its  everlasting 


tiv 


56 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


triiimpli  over  its  Papal  rival,  but  liore  between 
tlie  Green  Mountains  and  tlie  Adirondack  peaks 
and  on  the  shores  and  waters  of   Lake  Cham- 
plain  was  the  final  and  decisive  contest  between 
these  two  mighty  and  iidierently  hostile  forces 
waged  —  a   contest  which  gave  to  Protestant 
thought  and  its  resultant  liberty  the  civic  pos- 
session of  a  continent,  and,  through  its  develop- 
ing civilization,  inspired  by  its  own  genius,  the 
wealth,  the  conunerce,  the  literatures,  the  gov- 
ernment,  and  even  the  fashions  of   the  modern 
world.      Here   also,    on   this   lake,   the   feudal 
system,  which  was  ))oth  the  body  and  soul  of  the 
Gallic  effort  in  America,  and  whose  ambition 
was  notliing  less  than  entire  possession  of  the 
country  from  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,   and    from    the    Southern    to    the 
Nortliern  Gulf,  after  a  century  of  struggle  and 
intrigue,  and  a  dozen  bloody  campaigns,  found 
Its  Waterloo.    Nominally,  the  conflict  was  closed 
at  Quebec,  —  and  the  death  of  Wolfe  and  Mont- 
calm  both    on    that    fatal    field   of    Abraham 
Martm,  outside  the  walls  of  the  citadel,  natur- 
ally and  properly  gave  to   that    brief   engage- 
ment  between  a  few    hundred   men  a  historic 


TRAWTIONAI,  AND  ,„STOR,c  PKU,On.         67 
brilliancy  which  fixes  tlieffaze  of  nil 

knew  well  the  tnuh  and  Ll"    '""?''" 
a  year  and  mor..  hefo.vT  f  l'''«''y  when, 

J- warned  J  wt^ 

of  war  that  th         '     ;:7'' r  "'' ^ 

.■^^^  ''Old  npon  the  e^oiTi  1^^::;::  ^^ 

fl'-ig  of  Franco  w  .     i         ^  ''''"•     ^"^  when  the 
o  "^^^  -i-i.inco  Was  Jovverpf]   -,+  a     i 

less  advance  -.t  T-      7  Amherst's  resist- 

'•t  -  ti::'::i :;  ::nr  ^";  ''■°-^"  ^"^-' 

-t  was  to  he  the  iJ     ?:„lr,T^^^^^^ 
^-.  c.-vi.i.ation.  and  not  the  l^t     pIT 
Galhe  power.     And  if  the  student  of  A 
"ationality  would  know  the  fact   of  -tr™'" 
l>e  must  not  becnn  with  .      ,  '"''°''^'' 

Lexington,   or  tl "    fi  ,  •    "'  ''™'^'"^* 

Bunk;  H  ,  U 1      T      '"■■'"'^   ^8'"   °« 
^-I'Ji,  Diit  come  to  fhk  loi^^    r 

-nd   its   shores   he   will    e.     I    d    '    "'  °"  '' 

Bunker  Hill  would  neve-  hav  \  ""7"    *'"' 

t'-  men  whose  fierce  c     rat!       iT      ""'''  '' 

arms  made  it  historil  h      f,  "°^'''^''8''  "^ 

deadly  use  of  ^r  ''' "°"'^'^™"^d  the 

^'k-ulture  they  ree  ;::     d^ir^  "'^. -- 

unaci  tile  most  skilful 


58 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


and  bravest  generals  of  figliting  England,  in 
their  campaigns,  battles,  and  forays  against  the 
French  and  Indians  here  in  the  valley  of  Cham- 
plain. 

In  what  school  was  Schuyler  of  New  York 
trained?     AYhere   did   Putnam   of   Connecticut 
learn  to  fight  ?     Where  did  the  grit  of  Stark  of 
New  Hampshire  get   its  razor  edge  ?     Whence 
came  the   cannon   that  manned   the  works  of 
Washington  on  Dorchester  heights  and  enabled 
hmi  to  drive  the  British  out  of  Boston  ?    Fighting 
against  whom  and  where  did  New  England  and 
New  York  men  learn  the  use  of  arms,  the  habits 
of  obedience,  the  coolness  of  veterans  under  fire, 
and   that   indifference  to  numbers  which  morj 
than  once  held  the  Revolutionary  army  together 
and  made  it   formidable  to   its  foe  ?     Here   it 
was,  here  on  Lake  Champlain  and  its  connecting 
waters,  that  the  men  who  fought  so  bravely  under 
Prescott,  Putnam,  Stark,  Gates,  and  Washington 
learned  the  lesson  of  war  and  from  it,  as  a  mar- 
tial school,  graduated  as  veterans  for  the  Revolu- 
tionary  struggle.      Is   it   not   a   most   strange 
thing  that  although,  nearly  three  centuries  have 
passed  since  the  curtain  was  lifted  and  the  first 


f -ra,„,  the  ...eatei;  7:Z^^Z^l!-'^^- 
dauntless  spirits  of   p  ^''^  ™ost 

t"e  aoto../J      :H,f;T  --l  England  were 
oxceptionfMr^^r^'*'!^---',  with  the 

'--   eo^e   and    Hi  '"'^°  ''''''  '^^«» 

'"   gone   since  off  tha  „     .1 

point   of   Valcour  IsJ.nd    t.    7  ^«'««ast 

that  waved  about  tl.  '''  ^'•'^"«''  ^^^g 

"-t   and   inipressive  fact    r'"'"^" 
French  occupation  of  t  T    fee  "^  ''"'  ''^ 

p~.^  facts  from  dri;- ;'::  Z2  'T 

--.ovi„go„rre„toftinie"i„t:oii:'r^"' 

f^nAJIPLAIN. 

It  was  then,  as  the  last  nf       , 
glorious    predecessors,    t^^      '  "     ?=^  '"''  °' 
-eking,  as  all  before  hh^  L  ^"'  ""    ^^"^ 
--t  1-age.     None     "  ,  H'  ^'^f '■"'■ 
gone  before  him      T„    ]  '  '"'^'^  -^^er 

™-     ■^"'^"*y  t"«es  did  he  cross 


h      n 


60 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN, 


the  Atlantic  -once  in  a  .sl.allop  of  sixteen  tons 
and  once  in  one  of  barely  twelve.     Verily,  l,e 
was   a   sailor  of  wliom  the  bravest  of  the 'old 
mariners  who   had  preceded   him  need  not  be 
ashamed.     In  this  mercenary  age  it  were  h.ard 
to  make  men  understand  the  motive  which  held 
Inm  to  his  performance  amid  perils  numberless 
and   incredible   labors.     For   he   was   not   ani- 
mated  by  the  love  of  gold.     Wealth  he  never 
sought.     He  was  not   ambitious   of   lands  and 
feudal  sovereignties,  nor,  so  far  as  we  can  judge, 
was  he  even  ever  emulous  of  fame.     His  was 
the   adventurous   spirit,  the   seeking   .soul,  the 
.searching  mind,  the  eye  eager  to  see  new  sights 
the  ear  that  longed  to  hear  strange  sound.s,  and 
the  heart  that  craved  to  feel  those  fresh  emo- 
tions which  belong  to  the     liild-world  and  the 
child-man.     There  was  within    him  a  race  for 
knowledge.     To  see  the  waters  of  hitherto  un- 
seen seas ;  to  inhale  the  wild  odors  of  savage 
woods,  never  breathed  by  man;  to  stand  upon 
the  .summits  of  untrodden  mountains ;  to  hear 
the  plunge  of  mighty  waterfalls  deeply  hidden 
m  the  enveloping  forests ;  to  behold  the  glories 
of  sunrises  and  of  sunsets  such  as  dwellers  in 


I 

TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORrr.   t, 

Wi^TORlC  PERIOD.         61 

Cities  never  <5po  .  +^ 

extraord  J  r;„  °  r™""  *'"  ™"-'^''  ^■"^ 
^i^iy,  and  the  marvellous  •  ir,  .1     . 

mating  motive  in  tlie  boson,  Jn^  ^"'■ 

was  neither  warrio,  7  Cl,amplai„.     He 

nor  scientist     nLi        """""'^'  "°^  *^'^^-' 
'usi;.     ±i,s  insijirat  on  was  nnf  „-f  .,, 

«word  nor  of  the  cross.    Wealth  1  *''' 

with  indifferent  eyes      To  f       I  °°"''='"P'-ted 

establish  an  empire  t  ""'^  ^  ^''^'"''^  °r 

-"-to.ee,tor;  ;:rj~v"" 
■-wing  What  othe:.sK:':r;°/°^°^ 

what    others    never    felt     "°  .'^"'^  ^^  ^^^'ng 
Champlain  was  life.        '*  ""  ""^    *<>    Samuel 

Jt  was  the  3d   of  JuW    ^am      i 
PJain  first  ga.ed   upon   t         '  ^  "?  ""™- 
quently  bore  hi,  na.L       1  '"''  ''*"'■ 

uiment  tliat  perpetuates  his  fnm„      „, 
do  not  know  certainly  the  exact    ,,        " 

was  early  in  iho  ^       ■  ''°"'''   ^ut  it 

o.uiy  m  tlie  morninir  when  tl.^  „ 

hore  him  i^Iided  o„f   f  ,  '"°'  '^'■''^h 

ftiiuLQ  out  trom  hofwAon    +i 

lianirincr  nnn]p«        ,        .  '^^t'^^een    tlie   over- 

»  "6  maples  cand  ced-irQ  ,.,1  •  i    ,. 

^-k  of  the  Richelieu,  ^T::^^    -j^  ^^"- 
-ers  of  the  lake.     The  speetalt;;t: 


<f 


62 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


his  eyes  was  one  which  brought  exclamations  of 
astonishment  from  his  mouth,  and  as  his  canoe 
swept  onward  over  the  level  water  new  beauties 
and  wider  expanses  of  natural  loveliness  broke 
upon  his  view.     Even  then  he  was  a  world-wide 
traveller.     He  had  visited  Mexico,  Vera  Cruz, 
and  Panama.     The  luxuriant  loveliness  of  the 
tropics  and  the  more  sober  beauties  of  semi-tropi- 
cal regions  were  familiar  to  him.     He  had  seen 
the  best  that  the  continent  of  Europe  had  to 
show.     He  had  gazed  upon  the  green  meadows  of 
Acadia  and  the  awful  grandeurs  of  the  Saguenay. 
But  never  before  had  he  looked  upon  a  scene  of 
such  picturesque  beauty,  and  such  varied  loveli- 
ness, as  this  body  of  water  presented   to   his 
appreciative  eyes  as  it  lay  revealed  in  the  dewy 
light  of  this  warm  July  morning. 

Not  a  breath  was  moving  in  the  air.  The 
lake,  between  its  widening  shores,  stretched 
before  him  smooth  as  glass.  Through  it  the 
noiseless  paddles  moved  the  noiseless  bark  in 
which  he  stood  and  gazed.  Behind  liim  came  the 
twenty-four  canoes,  silently  following  his  silent 
wake.  The  paddles  rose  and  sank  in  perfect 
unison.     The  ochred  faces  of  the  Indians  and 


TRADITIONAL  AN,)  „,.s,,)U,c  VKKIOD.        63 
their  feathered  scalp-lock«  showed  brilliantly  i„ 

he  ,„orn.ng  light.     Tl,e  air  was  odorous  with 
the  perfunres  of  gums  and  flowers.     Here  and 

here  lilies  starred   the  water  whiteirLrg 
fi.*  leape  ,  splashed,  and  drove  their  sharponS 
wedge    of    motion    along    the    level    surfo" 

Through  the  dewy  air  came  the  pure,  sweet  note 

0  the  hermit  thrush.     Far  overhead  the  hunti^:! 
eagle,  sweeping  round  and  round  in  watchful  cir! 

ces,eametoasuddenstop,flut,eredforamoment, 
and  Uien,  with  rightly  balanced  poise,  drove  head 

r'7"r"''''"*°  *'-''•'-     Duck,  blackened 

1  h/.r""-     'T''— ''--Joes  watched 
he  playful  fawns  bounding  along  the  sand.    The 

umbering  moose  waded  laboriously  shoreward, 
and  on  the  marshy  bank  stood  at  gaze.     Above 
the  sky  was  sapphire.     Over  tl,„  1  » 
tii-.,  tl,„  ,  ^^ -^i   the  eastern  moun- 

«.te  sun  .showed  redly.     The  mighty  woods 

came    o  the  water's  edge,  an  unbroken  mass  of 
natui^l  forest.     The  lake,  to  which  he  was  to 

g.ve  his  name  while  living,  that  was  to  be  h 
ejlastiiig  monument  when  dead,  welcomed   ^ 
entrance  bet„-een  her  shores  with  tlie  finest  ex! 
P-s,o„s  of  her  loveliness.    Champlain  had  come 
to  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him  gladlv 


64 


m 

lit!! 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


^  Thus  they  papsed  slowly  up  the  lake.     The 
time  that  it  took  to  make  the  passage  of  the 
lake  from  its  outlet  to  the  point  at  which  they 
fought  their  battle  with   the   Iroquois    proved 
that   ^.he  party  not  only  moved  without  haste, 
but  that  Champlain,  according  to  his  custom, 
circumnavigated   its   islands  and  made  a  thor- 
ough exploration  of  its  shores.     For  he  entered 
it    on    the    3d    of   July,   and  it  was  the  29th 
of   the  month,  as   he  records,  when,  paddling 
along  in  the  night,  hlx  party  ran   against  the 
Iroquois.     These  twenty-six  days  gave  him  suf- 
ficient  time   to   examine    the    lake    carefully. 
This  he  undoubtedly  did.     Champlain  was  not 
only  a  soldier  and  a  navigator,  but  he  was  a 
sportsman  as  well,  a  tourist,  and   a  poet.     He 
loved   nature   for  nature's  sake.     Ho    did    not 
enter  this  lake  to  seek  gold  or  foes.     He  was 
seeking   the   Northwest   passage,  and   a   great 
water-course  to  tlie  west.     Strange  as  such  an 
idea  seems  to  us,  it  was  a  living  reality  to  him, 
as  it  had  been  to  all  the  old  mariners  before  him! 
Both  as  a  lover  of  nature  and  as  an  explorer, 
bent  on  his  romantic  search,  he  would  naturally 
move   slowly   through   the   great    water-course 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.  65 
^ich  passing  out  from  the  mouth  of  the  Riche- 
I'eu  he  saw  suddenly  in  long  and  glorious  per- 
spectives before  him.  ^ 

For  Champlain  was  then  as  now  a  lake  of 
wide  expanses  and  magnifieent  distances.     It  is 

iviemphremaeoo'.  nor  lin=  ;♦  ti      •  ^ 

tam/  ""^  interruptions  or 

tame    appearances    of    ilooseliead,    nor    is    it 

that  Its  borders  straighten  and  oppress  it,  as  is 
the  ca,se  w.th  t,,e  Horicon.     But  it  is  ,o„:  a„d 
wide  and  .spacious.     The  e,e  ranges  along"  pe" 
peetives  that  a  hundred  miles  do  not  meLL" 
and  the  vistas  which  stretch  before  the  gazer 
whether  of  water  or  of  land,,  terminate  iftle 
vague  and    dimness    of    distance.      Lake 

daj  or  m  a  week,  and  when  we   read  in  Cham- 
P>a.n  s  record   that  he  was  twenty-six  da.^Tn 

"laing  the  distance  between  the  outlet  an     t 
-uthernmost   point  of    his  exploration.    „ea 
Ticonderoga,   we  know,  instinctively,  how  the 
da,,  were  filled  with  labors  and  with  pleasures 

For  nether  m  Nova  Seotia  nor  on  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  from  Labrador  to  Lachine,  had 


ilfilS 


66 


LAKE  ClIARIPLAIN. 


he  ever  found   such  sport  as  the   waters,  the 
islands,  and  the  shores  of  this  hike  gave  him. 
In  his  journal  he   records  with  amazement  the 
quantity  and  size  of  the  fish  which  filled  the 
waters  of  the  lake  and  the  streams  flowing  into 
it.     And  he  was  not  a  man  to  deny  himself  the 
pleasures  of  the  rod  or  of  the  gun  when  game 
was  plenty  and  the  hunger  of  many  justified  the 
sportsman's  privilege.     For  twenty-six  days  he 
shot  and  fished  to  his  heart's  content,  circum- 
navigated the  islands,  explored  the   shores,  ex- 
amined the  forests,  and  penetrated  the  rivers  in 
search  of  pleasure  and  of  knowledge.    Then  sud- 
denly his  habit  changed.     His  fishing  and  his 
hunting  ceased,  and  the  explorer  and  sportsman 
became  a  warrior.    For,  from  what  is  now  Apple- 
tree  Point  or  the  northern  shore  of  Burlington 
Bay,  the  Algonquin  chiefs  pointed  out  to  him  the 
significant  shaft  of  "Mohawk  Rock,"  and  told 
him  that  when  they  passed  beyond  its  line  they 
were  within  the  country  of  the  terrible  Iroquois 
and  must  look  to  their  caution  and  their  cour- 
age  for   preservation.     Champlain's   gala    day 
was  passed,  and  he  was  now  drawing  nigh  to  the 
saddest  day  for  him  and  France  that  either  ever 


TKADITIONAL  AND  H,ST,„fC  PEU.OD.        67 

knew ;  the  day  when  he  should  shed  blood 
wUhout  cause.  The  Wood  of  that  United  ;eo 
P  e  the  strongest  and  most  warlike  confederacy 
o  R  d  „,e„  on  the  continent,  and  of  whom 
the  fame  was  as  wide  as  their  sovereignty,  tluat 
t  ey  never  forgot  a  friend  or  forg.rve'  t 
Strange   fate   this   which   befell   the    n.st  and 

humaneChamplain,  that,  stumbling  oL 
•gnorance    of    Indian    politics  and  po^e^   he 

h.s  lake  that  was  to  bear  his  name,  decide  the 

The  picture  of  the  battle  between  Champlain 
and^hjs  ames  and  the  Iroquois  is  thus  drawn  by 

"  ^^TTLE    WITH    THE    IROQUOIS. 

"At  nightfall  we  en.barked  in   our  canoes, 
and  as  we  were  advancing  noiselessly  onward 
we  encountered  a  war  mrtv  r^t  t 
nninf  „f  ^     •^       Iroquois  at  the 

point  of  a  cape  winch  juts  into  the  lake  on  the 
west  s,de.  It  was  on  the  29th  of  the  month 
and  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  They  and  we 
began  to  shout,  seizing  our  arms.     We  wU.h 


ti 


68 


LAKE  CHAM  PLAIN. 


drew  to  the  water,  and  the  Iroquois  paddled  to 
the  shore,  arranged  their  ennoos,  and  began  to 
hew   down    trees   with    vilhiinous-looking   axes 
and   fortified   themselves   very   securely.      Our 
party  kept  their  canoes  one  alongside  of  the  other, 
tied  to  poles,  so  as  not  to  run  adrift,  in  ovrler  to 
fight  all  together  if  need  be.     When  everything 
was  arranged  they  sent  two  canoes  to  know  if 
their  enemies  wished  to  fight.     They  answered 
that  they  desired   nothing  else,  but  that  there 
was  not  then  light  enough  to  distinguish  each 
other   and    that   they  would   fight   at   sunrise. 
This  was  agreed  to.     On  both  sides  the  night 
was  spent  in  dancing  and  singing,  mingled  with 
insults  and   taunts.     Thus   they  sung,   danced, 
and  insulted  each  other  until  day  broke.     My 
companions   and  I  were    concealed  in  separate 
canoes   belonging   to   the    savage    Montagnais. 
After  being  equipped  with  light  armor,  each  of 
us  took  an  arquebus  and  went  ashore.     I  saw 
the  enemy  leaving  their  barricade.     They  were 
about  two  hundred  men,  strong  and  robust,  who 
were  coming   toward   us   with   a   gravity   and 
assurance  that   greatly  pleased  me,  led  on  by 
three   chiefs.     Ours  were  marching   in  similar 


TRAD,TK,XAL  ^ND  HlSTOmc  PERIOD.         69 

orJer    wh-o  toM   ,ne  that  tl.o.se  .ho  bore  the 
""•ee  lofty  ,.h„nes  were  the  chiefs  .nd  It  T 

mu«t  do  alll  could  to  kill, hem      T,' 
do  the  best  I  could      tL  ^"'"""'"^  *" 

firm  and  had  not  y^t,  e  c  ;:""'  ^^'"  ''"'' 
wlm  wcuti„tothH.ush  i  !  "^  --"P-ions, 
commenced  calling  o„  n,e  with  a  loud  vo "e  opeT 

2;7^orn.eandplaci„gmeatt:;bIT 
about  twenty  paces  in  advance  until  T  7     ' 

t>-ty   paces    fron.   the   enemy      Th,  ' 

tbey  saw  me  thev  l.  ',  a  '^'        ^  moment 

them      m       r     '        '  ^"'■'""^'  '■''  '"«  -^nd  I  at 

'rase  ■"'''""  '''-^'"""^-^ 

'^is?  A  laised  my  arnuehim    n..ri      •    • 

J  'ii4ULuus,  and,  aiinmo-  dirppflxr 

-t  one  of  the  chief,  tu-o  of  them  fdl        2 
g-nd    by   this   shot,  and   one   of   t  1  eom 
pamons   received   a   wound  of   which  .    ." 

filler,     iiie  Troquois  were  otpoHv  nc+     •  i     , 
-f".  two  n.en  Killed  so  i:;^::Zt'l: 
-^standing    that    they   were    provi^'w^ 


70 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


arrow-proof  armor  woven  of  cotton  fliread  and 
wood.     Tliis  frii^diteiied  them  very  much. 

"Whilst  I  was  reloading,  one  of  my  com- 
panions fired  a  shot,  which  so  astonished  them 
anew,  seeing  their  chiefs  slain,  that  they  lost 
courage,  took  to  flight,  and  abandoned  the 
field  and  their  fort,  hiding  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest,  whither  pursning  them,  I  killed  some 
others.  Our  savages  also  killed  several  of  them 
and  took  ten  or  twelve  of  them  prisoners.  The 
rest  carried  off  the  wounded.  Fifteen  or  six- 
teen of  ours  were  wounded.  These  were 
promptly  treated. 

"After  having  gained  this  victory,  our  party 
amused  themselves  plundering  Indian  corn  and 
meal  from  the  enemy,  and  also  their  arms, 
which  they  had  thrown  away  the  better  to  run. 
And  having  feasted,  danced,  and  sung,  we 
returned  three  hours  afterwards  with  the 
prisoners." 

Such  is  Champlain's  description  of  the  battle. 
As  to  the  exact  locality  of  the  fight  there  has 
been  much  learned  (?)  dispute.  To  my  own 
mind  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  it.  The 
place  was  nigh   Ticonderoga.     Champlain   dis- 


n  )i 


tinctly  marks  the  loci  lit,,         i  • 

'•-'ke:    that    is   enoiH    ^     l' ,   "  ""''^P  °f  "'« 

r«t--n   trip    Clrnn?  '""''   '''     0"  «'-■"• 

■•■'-'«nt  to  I„,i.„     i..     7    •;«-"•'%'    -ones 
prisoner.     It  „n<Io„l,f   i  *"'''"™  "^  ^ 

t-ot-o'  Point     '  ;  '"^  '"''■^  1"'^««  '-^t  Wil,3. 

ci.a.p.air;: :  t:;:": ""'  "°^  •^'-^'^' 

;--'.e  torture,  aJuTeerTil^ 

longed  agonios;  and  i5noll  '■°'"  i"""- 

dead  at  the  stake  ''  "'  """^'  ^''°*  >"™ 

^-^--a,n:rti::r:s-::r;r-^ 

«™e  a  Christian  white  ,nan  .  '  "  '"' 
f'eir  first  lesson  in  tl,"''^""''^*"^"^'^' 
'«  called   Chrisi     i  '^  '™:r  ^'"T  °^  ^^■"•^^ 

-'-thattheredwai^^^or    o    r';/'"'^"'^ 
t'-rfirstintrodnetion:,!""/'*'^^'^'-'! 

''"ndred  and  fifty  ye  J  H  '"•     ^°' ' 

-yofitontheeCfJ;''-"''™''"'^-^- 

"'^ I'o'- of  thei::;::,;i  -^^^^^^^^^^^ 

once  the  recollection  nf  ,7  '^  *''*" 


?:» 


72 


LAKE  CIIAxMPLAIN. 


their  chiefs  there  ruthlessly  shed,  stood  like  a 
wall  of  fire  between  the  feeble  English  settle- 
ment south  of  them  and  the  French  and  Indian 
hordes  which  were  marshalled  to  destroy  them 
in  the  north.     More  than  once  France,  throuo-h 
Church  and  State,  practised  all  the  arts  of  per- 
suasion and  intimidation  to  entice  the  dreaded 
Iroquois  to  her  side  or  wedge  them  from  their 
alliance  with   the   English,   and   failed.     They 
could  not  forget  what  France  had  done  to  them 
in  their  first  encounter  near  Ticonderoga.     The 
slaughter  of    the  Indian  chiefs   by  Champlain 
was  not  only  a  crime  but  a  political  blunder  — 
a  blunder  of  such  magnitude  and  so  far-reach- 
ing in    its   after   results   as   to   become  monu- 
mental.    As  it  needs  but  a  single  stone  dropped 
into  the  feeble  current  at  its  source  to  decide  in 
which   direction    a   river  shall  flow  —  whether 
toward  the  south  or  toward  the  north  —  so  it 
needs  but  one  act  by  one  of  the  participants  at 
the  beginning  of  the  course  of  events  to  decide 
what,  years  after,  shall  be  the  character  of  the 
results  and  final  outcome  of  them.     If  Cham- 
plain  could  have  foreseen  what  his  slaughterous 
shots  had  done  for  France  that  morning  ;  could 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.         73 
he  but  have  heard  the  yelk  of  I>ate,  the  screams 
of  agony,  the  shrieks  of  torture  which  "^^0 
-e  for  a  hundred  years  as  awfu,  echo LT, 
al  gun  he  would  tl,e„  aud  there  have  turn  d 

humanitv     Tt  "^'""^*  ""''"""^  »d 

um.  n.ty.     It  ha,,  been  said  tliat  long  before  he 

;:;  ';r''^''^'  ^^^  '-^  -  -^  i.;  b :'; 

and  :       TT  ""'■''■""  '~-d  *e  oil' 
and  deplored  the  other.     But  on  the  day  the 

-nne  was  done  and  blunder  committed  he     i! 

>mu  t  l,ad   died   away,  flushed    with   vietorv 
standing  on   the   shore   of   the   lake  whl     ti' 

l»ra,   he  joyfully   claimed    it   for   France       A 
-med  it  with  his  own  name.  "^' 

The  student  can   but  be  impressed  wi*h  the 
g  odfonune  that    attended    Champlain  i 

L       iHr'  *"^'""' '« ''--"0.7  aft 

trtst    v-t     T  ""'"''  ''  ■^"■'"^'^  '"  «''arp  con- 
trast   ,vuh  that  throng  of   adventurous  Ij^ 

whose  courage  and  whose  toils  were  en     ,   ' 
;;.-who,inlifeanddeath,misserC 


74 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


De  Soto  sleeps  in  a  nameless  grave  on  the  hank 
of  the  river  he  discovered  but  could  not  name. 
Sir  Humphre;y  Gilbert  perished  on  a  tempestuous 
night  in  mid-ocean.     His  grave  is  a  sailor's  grave, 
without  name  and  without  spot.     John  Cabot 
gave  to  England  a  continent,  and  not  an  English- 
speaking  man  knows  where  he  is  buried.     Leif 
Erickson  discovered  America  four  hundred  years 
before  Columbus  was  born,  and  the  fame  of  the 
great   deed    has   been   given   to    another.     Sir 
Hugh  Willoughby  found   death  and  f(jrgetful- 
ness  in  an  unknown  Lapland    harl)or.     Henry 
Hudson  was  turned  adrift  from  his  ship  by  his 
mutinous  crew  in    the    midst    of  the  bay   that 
bears  his  nan^o,  and  at  the  prime  of  life,  with 
his  little    son,  drifted    to   an    unknown  death. 
La  Salle,  the   noblest   spirit  after   Champlain, 
and  the  most  daring  soul  old  France  ever  sent 
westward,  sleeps  where  he  was  miu'denid  under 
the   verbenas  of    an   unknown    Texan    prairie. 
Verendrye,  first  of  white  men  to  see  the  sum- 
mits of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  slumbers  tombless. 
Jogues,  the  priest,  first  of  his  race  to  see  the 
Horicon,  was  tomahawked  in  a  Mohawk  village, 
while  the  name  he  gave  to  the  lake  has  been 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HT^Tr^or^ 

AiNJJ  HISTORIC  PERIOD  75 

by  their  exploits  clomb   o  th    .    7"'"°"'  "''° 
feme,  and  wI,o  were     1  f "''  ''^^'^'^  ^^ 

fote  even  aftor  t       ,  ^"''"'^  ^^  '''"  "•""ical 

were  to  comp   nU      xi        """^^^^e  of  men  who 

"''"see  the  spot  wliere  hi,  ,    '   'V        '  ^^"'" 
the  Jake  that  L.rr  1  ^  ^  ''''I'''  •■^"''  « 

fame.  ^        ^^  -""^  enduring  as  Lis 


MOHAWK  rock:. 
In    Burlino;ton    Bn^r   +i, 
straight  „p  f;o,n  o^^^Zj^'''    \  '-'■ 
->  and  sharp,,  pointed  "t     J'"- ' '"^  '' 
tion  point  to  p„zWe  tl,o  »<terroga- 

J  iMiz/it  tlie  curious  vovao-er      w 

;     pecal  geologic  or  historic  si.nifical  '    f  ! 
It  has,  wlio  may  tell  it<,  r.  ■  ■    """'''"*=«•  a»d,  if 

»«ction  ?    Is  it,!  T  °'  '^'"^''^  "«  «"»■ 

't  the  core  of  some  island  washed 


76 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


away  by  the  waves  of  ages  ;  a  geologic  remnant 
of  ancient  days,  shrunken  from  fair  and  verdant 
fulness  to  this  bare  spike  of  stone  ;  or  was  it 
shot  upward  by  some  terrific  force  which,  long 
pent,  was  suddenly  let  loose  in  throe  or  spasm  of 
Nature  ;  a  volcanic  specr-point  of  stone  darted 
out  of  ciiaos  when  all  her  forces  were  hot  in 
maddest  action  ?  Who  will  answer  the  dumb 
interrogation  of  this  strangely  pointed  stone,  or 
translate  from  the  historic  silences  around  and 
above  it  messages  of  knowledge  ? 

Men  call  it  Rock  Dander,  a  meanindess  name 
gotten  from  a  silly  tradition,  too  silly  to  men- 
tion. This  is  a  monumental  stone  standing;  here 
in  Burlington  Bay,  a  memorial  shaft,  older  than 
the  column  of  Trajan,  older  than  the  Agora  of  the 
Greeks.  The  fame  of  this  rock  was  continental. 
Centuries  upon  centuries  before  the  white  man 
came,  it  was  known  to  every  Indian  warrior  from 
Cape  Breton  to  Lake  Erie,  and  from  Labrador 
to  Florida.  Among  all  tl»o  Red  Nations  it  was 
known  and  named  with  awe.  It  was  a  landmark 
to  half  the  continent,  a  landmark  of  nationality 
and  empire,  a  pillar  of  authority,  a  symbol  of 
sovereignty  sustained  by  a  thousand  battles  dur- 


TRA»m0XAL  AND  HISTOUIC  VmiOU.         77 

mg  years  i„„„„,erable.     For,  fro™  Lake  Huron 
™nn..g   ea.t  even  to  this  rock  i„  BurlWt" 
Bay,   ca»e    the    boundary    li„e    between  Ih^ 
Iroquois  and  Algonquin,  the  two  great  I„d  1 
-es   which    held   the   continent  l^  o 

hostile  races  hold  their  countries  whos  H' 
nes  touch  and  which  for  either  part,  toTros. 
means  war. 

Of  all  tlie  Indian  tribes  the  confederated  Five 
Nations  were  ever  the  most  renowned.  They 
were  more  civilized  than  the  Greeks  when  Solon 

rained  his  code  for  his  eountr,men;the;w^ 
-  brave   as   the  Greeks  who  fought  at   Ther 
"opyte.      Their   chiefs   loved    battle   like     le 
old  Norse  Vikintr,      Tl,n  w        i   , 
naid  tl,„     *  Everglades  of  Florida 

pa  d   I'm  tribute,  and  the  Esquimaux  of  Labra- 
dor   lad   felt  the  .eight  of  their   tomahawks 
The   tribes    of    the    Mississippi   acknowledged 
thir  sovereignty,  and  the  nations  that  camped 
round    he  shores  of  Lake  St.  John  kept  their 

sentinels  pushed  well  southward  in  dread  of  the 
fierce  invasion.     But  of  th..  Five  Nations,  each 
fierce  as  a  hunting  eagK  ,he  Mohawks  .stood t 
war  pre-eminent,  unmatched,  and  invincible 


78 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


What   of   this?     Much.     This  rock  in   Bur- 
lington Bay,  in  that  former  time,  was  Mohawk 
Rock;  the  landmark  of   their  northern  bound- 
ary ;  their  mute  and  savage  challenge  to  all  the 
great  tribes    of   the  North,  to  come  beyond  it 
southward  if  they  dared.     It  is  not  known  what 
they  called  it  in  their  tongue  ;  the  old  writings 
spell  it  differently  and  give  it  different  interpre- 
tations.    I  care  nothing  for  them,  for  it  is  plain 
that  all  speak    of   it   out   of   their   ignorance. 
Of   it   all,  only  one  thing  is  certain,  which  is 
that  this  pointed  spire  of  stone  in  Burlington 
Bay  was  known  to  the  Indians  of  half  the  con- 
tinent as  Mohawk  Rock,  and  that  it  marked  the 
northern  point  of  their  savage  power  and  fierce 
dominion. 

To  tins  rock  they  came  to  declare  war  or 
peace  with  all  the  other  tribes.  Around  it  they 
gathered  in  their  war  canoes  for  fierce  invasions 
northward.  From  this  mute  rock  they  fought 
their  way  into  the  Huron  country,  until  they 
held  in  their  firm  grasp  Hochelaga,  now  Mont- 
real. North  of  this  bare  rock  the  Mohawk 
might  go  as  far  as  his  bravery  could  carry  him, 
but  south  of  this  great  national  sign  no  Huron 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.         79 

might  ever  come  one  step  and  live.     Away,  then 
with   the   sUv  nainn  tl,.,f  i      i  •  J-' '■"«n> 

^iven  tn  .1  •    ;■  °'''''  'gnorance   has 

g.ven    0  th,s  h.stonc  stone,  tins  monument  of 

—  tunes    old   with  unnu„.bered  centuries 
when  Cha,„p,a,„  came,  and  give  back  to  it  that 

races  knew  it,  when  by  them  it  was,  in  peace 

and  w,^r,oreaty  and  tribute,  n,entioned,  in  honor 
or  m  fear,  as  "  Moliawk  Rock." 

_  There  are  localities  in  the  world  which,  when 
v:s:  ed    provoke   the   imagination.     The  e   ar^ 
«pots  from  which  the  fancy  of  man  with  fr 
w.ng  start,,  for  fligbt  as  naturally  as  a  waking 
bird  from  b,s  morning  perch.     I  W  visited 
ueh  locahfes  and  felt  their  influence  upon  me 
I  have  gone  as  pilgrini  to  such  places,  and  from 
.'  "  '-^''''"^'^  gazing  backward  beheld  the  mar- 
tial pomp  and  glory  of  departed  days.     What 
2  t  not  this  old  stone  tell  us  if  it  „-gbt,p  J 
of  old-t„ne  wars  and  peace,  of  treaties  made  and 
broken  by  the  oM-ti„,e  warriors  who  gathered  in 
-lemn  councils  within  sight  of  it,  felted  th^i; 
nends      ,  ,,,„,,,  ,,^,^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^^^ 

t^-ghtypuK.  which  lined  in  those  far  days 
with  a  rorest  wall  the  shores  of  Burlin.ton  Bay% 


80 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Some  night,  if  you  have  imagination,  when 
the  lake  sleeps,  and  through  the  dusk  the  lights 
of  heaven  shine  dimly,  paddle  out  across  the 
still  water,  climb  this  ancient  rock,  and,  sitting 
upon  the  crest  of  it,  listen  to  the  silence  brooding 
around  you ;    that  silence  which  is  not  empty 
but   full    of   knowledge    and    understanding  of 
what  it  has  seen  and  heard.     Make 'your  mood 
receptive,  and,  it  may  be,  you  will  see  and  hear 
many   things,  —  the    low   murmur    of    solenm 
council,  the  battle  chant,  the  orator's  appeal,  the 
signal  for  assault,  the  dying  yell,  the  tortured 
victim's  moan,  the  funeral  lament.     Nor  shall 
your  eyes  lack  sights  that  will  enlarge  them; 
for  onward  through  the  gloom  in  long  lines  with 
measured  paddle  stroke  you  will  see  canoes  of 
war  come  on,  pass  you,  and  disappear  sweeping 
northward;    and   all  around  the   shores  where 
now  the  city  stands,  your  eyes  will  see  a  great 
wood  of  pines,  lighted  up  witli  a  thousand  fires 
so  that  each   trunk   stands   forth  like  a  dark 
brown  pillar,  and,  in  the  wood  thus  lighted,  you 
will  behold  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  warriors, 
ochred  for  battle,  passing  to  and  fro.    And  with 
this  vision  of  aboriginal  life  and  times  standing 


TRADmo^VAI.  Am  HTSTOniC  PEniOD.         81 
vividly   outlined    in    person   a^^     ■ 
before  you  you  will        r  "■'•<=«mstance 

fh,f  t    I  •      ■^  '■"'■''"''  ^^l'«t  so  few  learn 

that  to  h,m  who  has  knowledge  aud  i  ' 

both  there  is  „o  hidden  pa  tTl       ,"•'""''*"" 
P"-'es  us  is  not  the  pa'butt  '  "''"'' 

thedoorwhiehhasbeen    hn    bri     "='"' 

^oor  Which  has  n.j::r:,'::j'%TT 

aU  ou,h    knoekin,    with    reJde^    I     ets' 
ag."nst  It,  may  start  even  an  echo  '     Tl,     ,! 

P-t  we  can  reeo„,„er,  but  the    .tl  w?o 
■nvade  it,  or  who  of  ;f  .  ,         '  '"^y 

thing  ?  '       '''  "'"•^  "^"  »«  one  single 

TICONDEBOGA. 

J-Idng  the  proportions  a;"    rlt!" ' 
Diamond  at  Quebec,  it  neverthel  .     "^^ 

in  historic  significance     "Z      '    '"'  "'^t«''es  it 

-o.*ro,;a„d  o:Jsr;r  the'r 

-hody^^W^^ 

S-P.     In  the  surrender  of  Quebec  the  colonill 


82 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


effort  of  France  on  this  continent  expired.  Its 
last  breath  was  breathed  witli  tlie  dying  gasp  of 
Montcahn,  but  it  received  its  death-blow  at 
Ticonderoga.  There  it  was  that  the  steel  of 
England,  directed  by  the  skill  of  Pitt  and  driven 
home  by  the  conqueror  of  Louisburg,  reached 
its  vitals.  From  Ticonderoga  she  staggered 
toward  Quebec  as  a  wounded  bear  drags  herself 
to  her  den,  not  in  hopes  of  escaping  death,  but 
that  she  may  make,  at  its  mouth,  one  more  and 
her  last  fight  for  her  cubs. 

The  aborigines  called  the  stony  promontory 
Cheonderoga,  or  the  place  of  many  and  mellow 
sounds,  in  reference  to  the  dull  roar  of  the  falls, 
and  the  soft  sounds  of  the  rushing  rapids  that 
filled  the  smothering  woods  wdth  mellow  noise 
as  the  clear  waters  of  the  Horicon  tumbled  or 
rushed  over  their  obstructions  a  mile  beyond. 

The  French,  acknowledging  the  poetic  justice 
of  the  name,  called  it  Carillon,  —  the  Place  of 
Chimes,  — and  year  after  year  the  soldiers  of 
France  within  the  fortress  listened  to  the 
cadence  of  the  falling  waters  of  summer  nights 
and  fancied  that  they  heard  the  church  chimes 
of  their  native  land.     It  is  a  wonder  that  the 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC  PKKIOl..        88 

Stolid  Engli..h  wl,o  drove  out  M,e  F.encl,  did  not 
reohnston  it  Ounel's  Nock,  or  tluU  tho  vul.art 
■ng  An>er,cun  settlor.  wl,o  succeeded  the  iTriton 
d.d  "0    .t,,.uati.e  it  a«  Hog  Point.     But,  pro" 

SIhT        ,  ";"^""—-   -  offer  our 
grateful  .u,knowledgn,ont,s,  it  still  retains  i,.s  old 

see''td""T  "'""  "™^  *'"  '°"™'  -"^y  «tm 
ee   and  explore  was  built  by   t,.e   F,,neh   in 

I'oO      And  to  the  student  of  history  and  the 
traveller  alike   they  are   the   n.ost   interest  „! 

run  db,,,,,,r  on  three  sides,  and  a  portion 
o  tl  e  ren,an„ng  side  was  a  dense  swan,p. 
Th.s  landward  side  was  defended  by  a  breast 
work  nine  feet  in  height  and  a  thiel/abattirof 

en  trees  wliose  branches  were  sharpened  to  a, 
Po  nt.     Th,s  abattis  was  six  rods  deep  alon,.  the 

n  .e    reastwork,  and  dense,  and  constitured 

Agains     Ins  breastwork,  protected  by  its  frio-ht- 
"I  aba ttis,  the  incompetent  Abercroinbie  s  n 
t"ne  and  again,  i„  vain  and  successive  charges 


■,%. 


,%.. 


'i^r^'^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


y 


A 


/ 


^      mi/. 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


■  50     ""'^= 

II:  1^ 


2.0 


1= 

JA  ill  1.6 


Photographic 

^Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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84 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


the  finest  regiments  of  England  and  the  colo- 
nies.    For  four  hours  the    unequal   and    awful 
contest  lasted,  and  when  at  last  the  signal  to 
retire  was  sounded  and  the  maddened  but  ex- 
hausted soldiery  drew  back  from  the  gory  spot, 
two   thousand   bodies  were    left    in   that  awful 
parallelogram  — twenty-three  rods  long  by  eight 
rods  wide  —  to  emj^hasize  the  incompetency  of 
English  generalship,  and  French  skill  and  cour- 
age.    It  was  the  bloodiest  battle  ever  fought  on 
land  before  or  since  upon  the  continent,  as  the 
naval  battle  off  Plattsburgh  was  the  bloodiest 
battle    ever   fought    on   any   water   known   to 
history. 

The  next   year,  General  Amherst  conquered 
the    fortress   with    little,    if    any,   loss.      But 
Montcalm,   Levis,  Boulamaque   and   the  white- 
coated  troops  that  loved  the  battle  with  them 
were  not  there,  or  the  victor  of  Louisburg  would 
have  won  it  by  skill  if  he  won  it  at  all,  rather 
than    by  bravery.     For  England    never  had  a 
commander  on   this   continent    that    might    be 
compared  with  Montcalm,  unless  his  companion 
in   death  — the   gifted    but    delicate    Wolfe  — 
might  be  called  his  peer. 


TEADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PEKIOD.         85 

One  summer  niglrt  I  visited  this  most  historic 
ot  all  our  historic  places,  this  most  romantic  of 
all  our  ruins,  and  watched  the  night  out  seated 
upon  Its  crumhled  walls  or  wandering  along  its 
mounded  ramparts.     The  n.oon  was  at  its  full 
and  Its  white  ghostly  light  gave  fitting  illumi- 
nation to  the  spot  where  so  many  in  other  years 
Jad  fought  and  died.     I  doubt  if  any,  even  the 
dullest,  might  be  so  placed  and  not  have  both 
memory   and   imagination   quickened.     \s   for 
myself,  I  will  confess  that  night  and  its  emo- 
tions  remain   after  a  quarter  of  a  century  of 
time  as  clearly  and  impressively  engraved  on  my 
memory  as  the  features  of  my  mother's  face.    To 
me  as  to  the  red  men  Ticonderoga  was  a  name  of 
nature,  suggestive  of  mellow  sounds,  for  to  mv 
ears,  through  tlie  damp  air  of  dewy  upland  and 
toggy  river,  there  came  the  murmur  of  rapids 
and  the  voices  of  the  waters  of  the  falls  mel- 
lowed by  the  distance.     Then  came  the  memory 
of  later  times, -of  war  and  battles, -and   I 
heard  the  measured  fall  of  sentinel  feet ;   the 
hourly  call  from  angle  unto  angle ;  and  caught 
the  gleam   of  cannon  on  the  ramparts  and  of 
stacked  arms  and  long  lines  of  blanketed  forms 


86 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


sleeping  on  tlie  warm  turf   beyond  the  glacis. 
Below  me   on   the   pallid  water  I  saw   canoes 
come  noiselessly  out  of   distance  and  into  dis- 
tance go  as  noiselessly.     To  the  angle   of   the 
wall  nigh  where  I  sat  Montcalm  came  and  on  it 
seated   himself.      Soon   De   Levis   joined   him, 
then    Boulamaque   with    Bourgansville.      And 
last  of  all  Marin,  the  scout,  the  only  rival  in 
skill  and  courage  that  Rogers  and-  Putnam  ever 
had,  and  who  saved  the  latter  from  the  stake,^ 
even  when  the  fagots  were  on  fire  around  him. 
Together  in  low  tones  they  talked  of   France 
and  loved  ones ;  of  battles  fought  and  won ;  of 
comrades  dead  or  distant ;  of  perils  passed  Lnd 

'  Putnam,  while  scouting,  was  taken  a  prisoner  by  some  of 
Mann's  command.     They  bound  him  to  a  tree  and  one  of  the 
Indians  amused  himself  by  seeing  how  near  he  could  throw  his 
tomahawk  to  the  prisoner's  head  without  touching  it.    Putnam 
bore  the  ordeal  unflinchingly,  and  at  the  close  of  it  a  Canadian 
put  his  fusee  at  Putnam's  breast  and  snapped  it.    Fortunately  it 
missed  fire,  at  which  the  scoundrel  gave  him  a  severe  blow  in  the 
face  with  the  butt  end  of  his  gun.    Putnam  was  then  taken  to  the 
spot  where  the  Indians  were  encamped,  and  his  clothes  stripped 
from  him.     They  then  bound  him  to  a  tree,  piled  a  great  brush 
heap  around  him,  and  set  it  on  fire.    It  was  at  this  moment,  when 
the  flames  were  penetrating  through  the  brush  toward  his  body 
that  his  great  rival  and  foe,  with  whom  he  had  fought  a  hundred 
skirmishes, -Marin, -burst  through  the  throng  of  Indians,  scat- 
tered  the  burning  brushes  and  brands,  and  cut  the  withes  that 
bound  Putnam  to  the  stake  with  his  knife. 


TRAmTIOXAL  AND  irrSTORIC  PERIOD.         87 

perils  j-et  to  co,ne.     Then  ro.nd  them  gathered 

the.r  groat  foes  :  Lord  Ho,ve  -  who  i„  5^  fi  n 

matched  tlie  vouno-er  PIff  ;     .,         ,  "''' 

virtues  morip  .  *''"  °''''''"'^''  ^^^ose 

Sr  form  ti""  "T'  °*  ''^^"''  -- -''- 
le  s  form    he  rough  Putnam  sobbed  like  a 

cahn  hfted  h,s  chapeau  in  derision ;   Amherst 
caufous,  persistent,  brave,  with  the  Ian"      of 

Lou,^urg  on  his  brow;  Campbell  of  wi^^^ 

my.  enonsly  fated    unto    death ;    Rogers      he 

■  great  scout  — the  on] v.mnt    et         "««'»,   the 

'•'^  •^'=°"t  of  fame,  who  after 
Lexington  loved   the  Kin<.  of   P,  J    lu 
thq„  !„•„  ,  "        Jii.gland  better 

man  Ins  country  Ariir.1,1   T„       i       , 
Johnson     M    /'       "°''^' ^°^^n«'>eml.  Lyman, 
Seth    W     *^°'"«omery.    Gates,    E- han    Allen 

Sam      :;•   '^^'"^-"''^^   ^•*-'    «*-k,  and 

oi  e  me  makmg  such  a  group  of  fam» 
as  iHstory  cannot  equal  at  any  other  citadro; 
~t  battle  plain  save  one-Quebir'^'"'^ 
Then  eame  the  dawn  and  with  it  the  rush  of 

S'  t :  tn ''-' ''  ^  '-^-^^  - «-  pot 

and     he  stentorian   voice   of  Ethan  Allen  de 
-ndmg  of  Laplace  that  the  fortress  be  lurret 


88 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


dered    to    him,   speaking    ''  in    the    name    of 
Jeliovah  and  the  Continental  Congress."^ 

With  such  recollections  and  musings  was  my 
mind  filled  as  I  sat  or  wandered  amid  the  ruins 
of  Ticonderoga  on  that  moon-lighted  summer 
night,  until  with  the  hours  of  it  moving  in  con- 
cert, the  dim  stars  passed  from  sight,  and  over 
the  mountains  of  the  east  the  sun  rose  resplen- 
dently  strong  and  bright,  lighting  with  his 
rays  a  great  and  prosperous  land  whose  liberty 
and    religion    owe    so   much   to    Ticonderoga, 

1  The  following  address  was  delivered  by  Ethan  Allen  to  his 
eighty-three  compatriots  as  they  stood  on  the  western  shore  of  the 
lake,  after  they  had  been  ferried  across  ready  to  make  their  des- 
perate attempt  to  capture  the  fortress.  The  date  was  May  10, 
1775,  and  the  hour  was  that  of  early  dawn.  I  preserve  the  words 
of  the  address,  as  illustrative  of  the  bravery  of  the  leader  and  the 
led. 

"  Friends  and  fellow-soldiers,  you  have  for  years  past  been  a 
scourge  and  a  terror  to  arbitrary  power.    Your  valor  has  been 
famed  abroad  and  acknowledged,  as  appears  by  the  advice  and 
orders  to  me  from  the  General  Assembly  of  Connecticut  to  sur- 
prise and  take  the  garrison  now  before  us.     I  propose  to  advance 
before  you  and  in  person  conduct  you  through  the  wicket  gate;  for 
we  must  this  morning  either  quit  our  pretensions  to  valor  or  pos- 
sess ourselves  of  this  fortress   in  a  few  minutes;  and  inasmuch 
as  it  is  a  desperate  attempt,  which  none  but  the  bravest  of  men 
dare  undertake,   I   do  not  urge  it  on  any  contrary  to  his  will. 
You    who  will   undertake    it    with    me    voluntarily  poise  your 
firelocks." 

Allen  relates  that  every  man  did  poise  his  firearm. 


of 


Whose  ruins  still  sf',n.i  + 

debt.  ^  °^    *''^"-    everlasting 

CKOWN    POINT. 

superior    to    it,    stanrl.    P  '"  '°""*  '■"'P^^t^ 

-g'on  around     C'^   ';°^''"   ^-^   -d   the 

rowne.  of  the  Ve  .  ?,  "  ^"^''  '^  ''^  "- 
^*'ofar.an.ent:n^^i;;"'/'-*>'e 
age.     The  French    p.v]    "         "^'^ '*  ^^ '-^^^  Pass- 

*--  of  thi. ,::;  a^^ofT''^^  *"^  ^'"^- 

•■^ -"tar,  point  of  Viet;  nri2;rf''' '^^^^ 
as  early  as  I731  .     Tf  "-  ^O'''  "'ere 

"'•      ^*  ^^«  1-59  when,  at  the 

-•  ^-:r::  tr ;;:;:  --  -  na, .. .,..  .„„ 

<^°"'".an.l,  „e  f„„n„  J,,,;,]  J     '  '     -■"™'  of  Gene,al  A J^^ 

-as  because  of  t,„  blaol'.,  ^i  "r"  "  """^  »""  ■■"'"-=<'  I»ssages     I 
«'-e  l.ft  s.a„ai„„  ,„„,''  '^'' y^  »f  tl.c  burned  Louses  tl,.^ 

'"7"-  ''^°'"'-  ""'"o  by  which  it  is  sun 

Plannc„a,„as„iflce„t,o..       auou      ,:"  """^  «''    F™'--.    He 

or  soJid  masonry.   The  cur- 


90 


LAKE   CHAM  PLAIN. 


victorious  advance  of  Amherst,  they  left  it  for- 
ever. For  more  than  a  hundred  years  the 
banner  of  France  had  waved  above  th^^  walls  of 
the  fortress  that  French  jwwer  had  erected,  and 
held  in  evidence  that  Lake  Champlain  and  its 
shores  belonged  to  it. 

It  is  a  strange  fact  that  historically  Crown 
Point  is  a  mystery  and  a  puzzle.     There   are 
many  evidences  that  at  some  unknown  period 
it  was  the  centre  of  a  large  population.     Proofs 
of  a  populous  and   permanent   occupation   are 
not  wanting.     It  is  evident  even  now  that  the 
shores   of    Bulwagga   Bay,    for   many  rods,   at 
places,  were,  at  some  remote  period,  graded  and 
artificially    sloped    to    the    water.       Signs'    of 
ancient   fences   and   enclosures   as   of    gardens 
and  door-yards  may  still  be  seen.     In  some  of 
these  enclosures  aged  fruit  trees,  of  whose  plant- 
ing none  living  knew,  were  standing  within  the 
recollection   of    present  owners.      There   is   an 

tains  were  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  the  cir- 
cuit of  tlie  ramparts  measured  over  eight  hundred  yards.  A  deep 
and  wide  ditch  hewn  from  the  solid  rock  surrounded  the  entire 
work.  It  was  never  completed,  although  what  was  done  on  it  cost 
the  English  government  over  ten  millions  of  dollars.  It  is  this 
work,  undertaken  by  Amherst  in  1759,  the  ruins  of  which  are  now 
visible  to  the  tourist. 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.        91 
old  sti^et  tl.at  can   be  traced,  made  of  broken 
stone  ],ke  the   macadamized   roads  of  to-day 
Ancent  cellars,  son,e  of  them  hewn  from  tL 
sol.d   rock,  still   line   this   street.     There  is  a 
sidewalk  n,ade  of  flagging  still  to  be  seen,  but 
none  can   tell  who  laid  it.     These  stones   are 
worn  and  show  that  they  have  been  pressed  by 
countless  feet.     There  are,  moreover,  two  large 
graveyards,  —  °' 

"Great  cities  filled  with  pale  inhabitants," 

Which  tell  that  hundreds  and  thousands  who 
lived,  loved,  and  labored  once  were  here 

Settlers  who  came  in  to  settle  the  country 
after  the    Revolution  said   that  they  found   a 
large  tract,  miles  in  extent,  with  not  a  tree  or 
bush  on  it,  that  had  evidently  been  highly  culti- 
vated.    In  these  same  fields,  now  largely  over- 
grown    ith  a  heavy  forest,  a.sparagus,  herbs, 
and  bushes  usually  cultivated  by  man  can  still 
be  seen.     Rogers,  the  famous  scout,  in  one  of 
his  letters,  speaks  of  wide  fields  around  Crown 
Pomt,  and  that  they  were  covered  with  noble 
crops.     He  also  writes  of   settlements  on  the 
east  side  of  the  lake,  and  of  « three  hundred 


92 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


men,  cliiofly   inliahitants   of    the   adjacent  vil- 
lages."     Pnit   if    there   were   "three    hundred 
men  "  in  these   villages,  then  the  total  popula- 
tion on  the  eant  side  of  the  lake,  within  sight  of 
the  fort,  nnist  have  been  at  least  fifteen  hun- 
dred.    How  many,  then,  wore  probably  on  the 
ivest  side,  wh(>re  the  real  centre  and  power,  the 
military  possession  and  commerce,  were  ?     Kalm, 
the  Swedish  traveller,  said  that  "about  the  fort 
in  1749  were  a  large  settlement,  and  pleasant 
cultivated   fields   and   gardens."      There   is  no 
doubt  that  Crown  Point  was  at  one  time  not 
only  the  centre  of  a   vast  aboriginal  traffic  in 
skins  and  peltries,  l)ut  also  of  a  large  commer- 
cial exchange  between  the   French  and  Dutch 
and  English  settlements  of  which  we  have  no 
record.     My  own  belief   is    tliat   at   one   time 
the  population  of    Crown  Point    A^as  not  less 
than    five    thousand    souls.      Any    intelligent 
tourist  will  find  this  locality  a  most  interesting 
one  to  visit  and  examine. 

The  campaign  of  1759,  under  the  command 
of  Amherst,  secured  the  possession  of  the  con- 
tinent to  England.  The  French  left  Crown 
Point,  as  they  had  a  few  days  before  left  Ticon- 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.         93 
deroga,  on  his  approach  forever,  and  Amherst  at 
once  set  to  work  to  erect  an  impregnable  and 
magnificent  fortress.     The  ruins  of   this  work 
still  bear  witness  to  its  original  strength  and 
splendor.     Witli  those  at  Ticonderoga  they  com- 
pose the  most  extensive  and  impressive  ruins 
erected  by  white  men  on  the  continent.     The 
trenches   and    ramparts    can    still    h^    dearly 
traced.     The    barracks    still    remain    in    part. 
The  great  bakery  is  well   preserved.     The  old 
fireplaces   are   to   be   seen,    and   on   the   walls 
names   and   scribblings    traced    by   hands   that 
have  been  powerless  to  hold  pen  or  knife  for  a 
hundred  years.     The  last  time  I  visited  the  site 
of  old  Fort  Frederick  at  Crown   Point,    sheep 
were   feeding   on   the   grassy  rampart,   and   a 
phoebe  was  singing  her  liquid  note  at  the  mouth 
of  the  old  magazine. 

Arnold's  battle  at  valcour  island. 
We  are  not  an  admirer  of  Benedict  Arnold 
considered  in  the  light  of  a  military  commander 
only,  and  wholly  apart   from  the  dastard   act 
which  made  him  infamous  as  a  traitor  to  his 
country.     Nor  can  we  find  in  his  career  as  a 


94 


LAKK  CHAMPLAIN. 


coniniaiidor   in   his   variou.s    undertakings   any 
jiiHtification  of  the  lionorablo  place  which  histo- 
rians have  awarded  hlni.     For,  so  far  as  we  are 
aware,  he  never  won  a  victory  or  accomplished 
anything  of  practical  value  to  the  cause  that  he 
served     fur    years     with    undoubted    personal 
courage.      That    he  was  brave   in   battle  and 
energetic  in  preparation  is  true,  but  the  same 
might  be  claimed  for  hundreds  and  thousands 
to  whom  fame  was  never  awarded,  and  in  whose 
behalf  no  claim  of  it  might,  with  any  show  of 
reason,  be  advanced.     If  success  is  in  warlike 
undertakings   the   proper   gauge  of   merit,  the 
court  from   whose    decision   no   appeal  can  be 
taken,  then  Benedict  Arnold  was  never  deserv- 
ing of  especial  honor  or  honorable  mention  in 
history,  for  success  never  attended  his  efforts. 

Judged  by  his  record,  if  he  was  a  hero  at  all, 
he  was  a  hero  of  failures.  Oifensively  egotistic 
and  vain,  envious  and  revengeful  to  a  degree, 
mean  and  dishonest,  a  boaster  and  a  liar,  he 
deserved  condemnation  and  contempt  for  the 
meanness  of  his  personal  traits  and  innumerable 
acts  of  injustice  long  before  the  inherent  wicked- 
ness of  his  nature  and  the  growing  sinfulness  of 


TKADITIUNAL   AND   HISTORIC   I'KRIOD.         95 

his  career  culminated  in  l.is  betrayal  of  his 
country.  His  battle  at  Vulcour  was  not  only  a 
defeat,  but  a  defeat  that  might  have  been 
avoided. 

It  was  the  middle  of  August  when  he  took 
command  of  his  fleet  at  Crown  Point.     It  was 
respectable  in  the  number  of  its  vessels  and  their 
armament.     It  was  re-enfoi-ced  before  the  11th 
of  October,  when  he  fought  the  battle  at  Valcour, 
until  it  carried  over  eighty  guns  and  seven  hun- 
dred men.     At  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point 
General  Gates  had  an  army  of  nearly  ten  thou- 
sand troops.    They  were  in  a  good  stite  of  disci- 
pline, and  efficiently  armed.     Crown  Point  was 
then,  as  it  had  been  for  a  hundred  years,  the 
key  to  the  position.    Behind  its  batteries  Arnold 
could,  at  any  time,  if  pushed  by  the  English, 
have  found  safety  for  his  fleet.      Wisdom  re- 
quired, nay,  demanded,  that  he  should  flght  the 
English -when  he  fought  them -in  tlfe  open 
lake,  so  that  in  case  of  defeat  he  might  retire 
behind  the  guns  of   Crown  Point,  or  even,  if 
necessary,  above  the  protecting  works  at  Ticon- 
deroga.    This  plan  he  was  urged  to  adopt  by 
Waterbury   and  other    captains   of    his   ships 


96 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Why  he  dia  not  adopt  it  is  expiainaMe  only  on 
tlie   ground    of   his    complete   incompetency  to 
command  in  a  large  undertaking.     What  he  did 
do  was  to  phice  liis  wliole  fleet— which  he  knew 
was  inferior  to  that  of  his  antagonist  —  in  such 
a  position  that  it  could  not  fig'.t  save  at  close 
quarters,  and,  in  case  of  defeat,  could  not  retire 
m  safety  or  together.     The  result  was  that  his 
men  fought  bravely  and  his  fleet  was  destroyed. 
Valcour  Island  lies  on  the  western  side  of  the 
lake,  several   miles    bdow   Cumberland    Head 
Between  it  and  the  shore  -here  is  half  a  mile 
of  water.    The  entrance  to  this  passage  between 
the  island  and  shore  is  wider  irom  the  south 
than  from  the  north.    Allowing  that  the  English 
fleet  would  attack  him  from  the  south  —  which 
it  did  -  -  he  would,  in  case  he  was  defeated,  be 
entirely  cut  off  from  the  line  of  retreat,  and  have 
no  resort  save  the  negligence  of  the  victors  or 
sheer  luck.     This  was  all  pointed  out  to  him  by 
his  captains,  but  he  gave   them  no  heed.     He 
anchored  his  fleet  in  a  line  from  Valcour  to  the 
shore  and  waited  the  coming  of  Pringle ! 

It  was  October  11,  and  at  eight  o'clock  of  the 
morning,  when  the  English  fleet  were  discovered 


TEADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.         97 
Off  Cumberland  Head.     The  wind  was  blowing 
freshly  from  the  north,  and  before  it  the  fleet 
with    swelling    canvas,   was   booming    rapidly 
along.     Past  Valcour,  a  mile  to  the  east  of  it 
they  swept,  every  glass  directed  and  every  eye' 
gazing  southward,  expecting  thac  Arnold  would 
be  discovered  far  up  the  lake.     Imagine  their 
surprise   when,  suddenly,  they  saw   his   whole 
fleet  bunched  inside  of  Valcour !     A  glance  re- 
vealed its  inferiority  to  their  own,  and  the  cer- 
tainty of  their  victory.     It  was  reported  that 
the  English  commander,  as   he  wore  his  ship 
around  toward  the   west,  took  a  long  look  at 
Arnold's   position   througli  his   glass,   and   ex- 
claimed to  General  Carlton,  who  was  standing 
by  his  side :  '•  What  a  brave  fool  he  is !  "     An 
accurate  description ! 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  the  battle.  The 
Americans  fought  with  courage,  of  course. 
Arnold  did  the  work  of  a  common  gunner 
pointing  nearly  every  piece  on  tb.  Congres.^ 
himself.  Waterbury,  on  the  Washington, 
fought  his  ship  like  a  commander,  from  tho 
quarter-deck,  and  at  the  close  of  the  conflict  was 
the  only  active  officer  on  board.     It  was  Water- 


98 


LAKE  CKAMPLAIN. 


bury  who  had  been  most  insistent  that  the  fleet 
diould  make  its  fight  on  the  open  water  of  the 
lake  and  from  the  south  of  the  enemy.     Even 
after  the  English  appeared  off  Cumberland  Head, 
it  is  recorded  that  he  went  on  board  the  Con- 
gress, and  urged  Arnold  to  get  under  way  and 
run  the  fleet  out  from  the  pot-hole  where  it  was 
anchored.     The  battle  was  fought  and  won  by 
the  English  gunboats  only  and  one  schooner. 
The  Thunderer,  the  Loyal  Convert,  the  Inflexi- 
ble, and  the  larger  vessels  of  the  English  took 
no  part  in  the  action.     Pringle  had  been  unable 
to  bring  them  up  to  windward  in  time.     They 
were   not   needed.     The   defeat  of   Arnold   was 
complete,  and  would  have  been  ignominious  but 
for  the  courage  of  his  captains  and  the  bravery 
of  his  men.     The  only  vessels  that  succeeded  in 
reaching   Crown    Point    were    one   sloop,    one 
schooner,  a  gondola,  and  a  galley.     No  wonder 
that  the  principal  officers  of  his  fleet  called  him 
"  The  Evil  Genius  of  the  North."     He  should 
have  been  cashiered  and  dismissed    from   ser- 
vice in  disgrace.     But  General  Gates,  for  some 
unaccountable    reason,    covered    up    the    facts 
of .  the   case   in    his   report   to   Congress,   and 


TRADITIONAL  aND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.         99 

thus  enabled  the  most  incompet-nt  of  com- 
manders to  become  the  worst  of  traitors  to  his 
country.^ 

^^  i  It  seems  proper  that  the  following  inciJent,  illustrative  of  the 
cruelty  of  the  savage,"  as  it  is  well  accredited,  should  be  pre- 
served.     While  the  fight  was  being  hotly  contested,  a  Mrs,  Hay 
who  lived  in  a  house  on  the  mainland  near  the  scene  of  the  con^ 
fl.ct,  carrying  her  infant  in  her  arms,  went  to  a  spring  near  the 
lake  which  flowed  through  a  dense  tlncket.    To  her  horror  she  sud- 
denly found  herself  in  the  midst  of  a  large  force  of  Indians,  terrible 
in  their  war  paint,  and  all  armed  with  gims  and  tomahawks.    She 
reahz.ng  her  peril,  clasped  her  babe  to  her  bosom,  and  burst  into 
tears.     An  aged  chief  approached  her,  and,  unable  to  console  her 
in  her  own  language,  gently  wiped  her  tears  from  her  cheeks  with 
the  soft  fringe  of  his  hunting  shirt,  and  then  motioned  her  to  re- 
turn to  her  house,  where  she  remained  unmolested.    This  is  only 
a  typical  case  of  the  treatment  which  white  women  received  at  the 
hands  of  the  red  Indian,  whom  the  historian  Parkman  goes  out  of 
his  way -whenever  he  can  find  the  least  excuse  -  to  revile  and 
malign.    I  have  heard  a  thoroughly  informed  student  of  our  Indian 
wars  publicly  assert  that  there  was  not  a  single  instance  in  our  his- 
tory of  a  white  woman  having  been  outraged  or  insulted  by  a  pure- 
blooded  Indian,  nor  of  one  being   tortured  as  a  captive,  no  matter 
how  bitterly  she  may  have  fought  them,  and  only  a  few  cases  of 
white  women  being  killed,  even  in  the  moments  of  their  wildest 
rage.     If  Uv.  Parkman  will  recall  the  onlinary  treatment  which 
maidens  and  matrons  alike  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Christian 
and  civilized  soldiery  of  Europe  when  a  city  was  captured  and 
sacked;  if  he  will  recall  the  unnamable  tortures  which  were  in- 
flicted by  priestly  exemplars  of  the  mercies  of  God  in  Peru;  or  the 
horrible  mutilations  and  agonizing  deaths  inflicted  on  tlie  Wal- 
denses  and  Huguenots  by  the  sanction  or  order  of  the  Vice-gerent 
of  God  on  earth  — the  recollection  migliLuyiW^„ake  him 
more  fair  ani  scholarly  in  his  \udictmen^ff%^^i!^j^^ 


f  BI81.JOTHECA  1 


100 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


macdonough's  victory  m  plattsburg's  bay. 
The  battle  between  the  American  and  English 
fleet   off  Plattsburg,  Sept.   11,    1813,  was  one 
which  can  be  recalled  with  pride  by  the  coun- 
trymen of  those  who  won  and  those  who  lost ; 
for   the   fight  was   one    of  the  most  desperate 
ever  fought  in  ships,  and  from  first  to  last  the 
contest  was  waged  by  either  party  with  equal 
skill   and   courage.      The   same   blood   was   in 
either  host,  and  the  same  grim,  stubborn  way  of 
fighting  characterized  the  ships    that    bore  the 
Stars  and  the  ships  that  bore  the  Cross.     The 
armaments    were    nearly  the    same    in  number 
and  calibre  of  their  guns  and  in  the  force   of 
fighting  men  engaged,  while  the  commandants 
of  the  hostile   fleets    were    men    of   tried    skill 
and  courage,  and  the  captains  under  them  were 
of  that  metal  whose  edge  loved  the  fierce  fric- 
tion of  the  fray  and  sharpened  to  it  as  it  raged 
on. 

The  conditions  which  preceded  and  attended 
the  conflict  were  rare  and  rarely  perfect.  Each 
fleet^was  buiHin^  expectation  of  it  and  under 
the/eye  of  the  admiral  who  was  to  bring  it  into 


r^' 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC  PERIOD.       101 

caction.      Macdonough    was    of    fighting    stock 
and  fame,  and  at  Vergennes  had  built  his  ves- 
sels and  armed  them  for   this   fight.     Downie 
knew  well  whom  and  what  sort  of  a  man  he 
was  to  meet,  and  had  prepared  a  perfect  equip- 
ment for  the  desperate  meeting  wisely  and  well. 
Each  knew  that   the   fight  was  to  be  on   level 
water  and    within    pistol    range,    where    every 
shot   would    tell,   and    that   the   perfection   of 
armament  and  the  skill  and  courage  with  which 
the  guns  were    served  would   decide  the  issue. 
Each  knew  that  when   it  came  it  would  be  a 
duel  —a  duel  to  the  death  ;  and  that  grit  — the 
grit  of  the  most  warlike  blood  of  the  world  — 
would   settle   it.      Each    knew   also   that   two 
armies  drawn  up   in   battle  array  on  the  nigh 
shores,  under  the  same  banners  which   floated 
over  the  two  fleets,  would  supply  the  audience 
fit  for  such   a  noble  scene,  while  two   nations 
would  wait  in  suspense  for  the  first  tidings  of 
the   fray.     Seldom,  if  ever,    in    the  history  of 
naval  warfare  have  such  stimulating  conditions 
preceded  and   attended  a  contest  between  the 
contestants. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  of  the  morning  when  the 


102 

British  vessel 
got  their   first 
battle     lino 


LAKK  CHAAfPLArN. 


s    1 


•ountled  .Ciiinherhind    IL^d  and 
o(\  who    lay  in 


view  of  their   f 


arraiii. 


awaitni-     them.       Macdonough's 


J^eiiient  of    his  ships 


was  perfect.     From 


"ear  Cral,  Island  his  line  stretehed  straight 
across  (hohny  northward  to  a  point  abreast  of 
Cunib(>rland    Head,   but   somewhat  inside  of  it. 

!i«  the  Eagle,  Captain 


At  the  head  of  the  1 


ine  w 


Honly  conunander.     Tlie  Eagle  was   a  brig  as 
to  .ts  ng.  mounting  twenty  guns  an.l  n.anned 
w.tli  one  l,un,hv,l  an.l  t!%  ,„..».     Next  to  l.er 
"'_  o.-,]e,-.   toward   the   .ontl,,    lay  Macdonongh 
with    (lie    flag-ship.    the    Saratoga.    u,„„ntincr 
twenty-six  guns,  with  two  hn.idred  and  twelve 
J"on.     Then  came  the  Ticonderoga,  Cassin  com- 
manding, with  seventeen  gnns  and  one  hundred 
and   ten  men  :  ami  next  in  order,  ending  the 
Inie  near  (!>ub   Island,   was   the  Preble,  Budd 
commanding,  with  seven  guns  and  thirty  men. 
She  lay  so  near  the  shoal  stretching  northeast- 
ward Irom  the  island   as  to  prevent   the  line 
from  being  turned  by  the  enemy. 

To  the  rear  of  the  (irst  line  of  battle  thus 
placed  were  ten  gunboats  mounted  with  twenty- 
four,     eighteen,    and     twelve     pounders,     and 


of 


TRADITIONAL  AND   HISTORIC   PKRIOI).       103 

carrying  some  tliirty-live  nwn  eacli,  and  so 
pla(!LMl  as  !(►  coniiiiaiid  ihv.  intervals  hetwetin  the 
vessels  of  tlie  front  line  and  able  to  support 
them  in  emero,.„cy.  In  this  ^vise  manner  had 
Maedonough  made  his  line  of  battle;  and, 
standing  on  the  high  shore  above  Plattsburg, 
one  can  in  imagination  see  to-day  his  lleet  lying 
ready  for  action. 

Macdonongh's  spirit  was  of  the  highest,  his 
mood  heroic.     A  captain   of   one    of  his  ships 
signalled  to  inquire  if  it  would  not  be  well  to 
serve  a  ration  of  grog  to  the  ca-ews  before  the 
conflict   opened  — a  custom  universal   in  those 
days    on    lighting   ships    thus   placed.     He    de- 
clined the  suggestion  and  signalled   back  that 
his  men  should   fight  that  fight  braced  by  no 
other  stimulant  than  their  native  courage  and 
their  patriotic  love  for  their  country.     It  has 
been    said    that    his   brave  reply  was    received 
with  cheers  by  the  entire  fleet.     In  this  brave 
style  and  spirit,  as  the  British  bore  up  against 
them,  the  Americans  stood  silently  and  bravely 
at  their  guns,  while  the   two  hostile  armies  on 
the  shore  paused  in  their  initial  skirmishing,  each 
regiment  standing  at  rest  to  see  the  fight  begin. 


104 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


The  English  fleet  was  brought  into  action  in 
a  manner  worthy  of  the  brave  Downie's  reputa- 
tion and  the  best  traditions  of  their  naval  ser- 
vice.    He    bore  up   against   the  Saratoga,  and 
anchored    within     two     cable-lengths    without 
firing   a  shot.     The  Confiance  was   a   frigate; 
her  armament  thirty-seven  guns,  with  a  crew  of 
three  hundred  men.     There  were  many  of  her 
officers  and  men  who  had  fought  under  Nelson 
at  Trafalgar  and  knew  how  to  fight  a  ship  in 
silence  until  she  sunk.     Lying  thus  at  shortest 
range,  on  level  water,  abreast  of  the  Saratoga, 
she   poured  into    her  her  broadside  of  twenty- 
four-pounders  with  an  explosion  as  of  one  gun. 
The  effect  of  the  awful  discharge  was  terrific. 
Macdonough's  ship  shook  from  stem  to  stern  as 
the  monstrous  weight  of  plunging  metal  struck 
her,  and  staggered  like  a  man  hit  suddenly  on 
the  breast  by  a  giant's  fist.     That  one  fearful 
discharge  disabled  forty  of  her  crew. 

Thus  was  the  battle  opened,  and  for  two 
hours  and  a  half,  with  the  thunder  of  heated 
guns,  the  crash  of  shattered  wood,  the  shout 
and  cheers  of  men,  the  snapping  of  booms  and 
yards  and  masts,  swathed  from  sight  in  sulphur- 


TRADITIOXAr,  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.      105 

ous  smoke  the  brave  antagoni.sis  fought  it  out. 

None  flmeheJ.     The  hrave  Downie  fell  dead  on 

us  deck.     Iwice  was  Macdonough  down.    Once 

the  head  of  a  g,„,ne,.,  severed  from  his  bodv 

was  driven  against  hin.  with  snch  violence  that' 
"  knocked  Iu,n  into  the  scuppers.     No  man  was 
called  wounded  in  either  fleet  if  he  could  keep 
on  h,.,  feet   or  pass  ammunition  on  his  knees 
Mids  up„,an  Lee  of  the  Confiance  said  that  he 
doubted  If  there  were  five  men  out  of  the  three 
hundred  that  were  not  killed  or  wounded.     The 
Saratoga  wns   hulled  fifty-flve  times  and  wa, 
w.ce  on   fire.     The  Confiance  was  hulled  one 
hundred  and   five  limes.     The   Americans  lost 
one  man  in  every  eiglit,  killed  or  wounded,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  action  there  was  not  a  mast 
in  either  fleet  fit  for  use.     In  both   fleets  the 
lower  rigging  h„ng  down  as  if  but  just  placed, 
m  settmg  up,  over  the  mastheads.     The  masts 
themselves  were  so  splintered  that  they  looked 
like  bunches  of  matches,  and  the  sails,  tattered 
and  begrimed  with  powder,  like  bundles  of  old 
rags.     Well-informed  writers  have  said  that  it 
was  the  bloodiest  naval  battle  ever  fought  by  a 
fleet  of  ships. 


106 


LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 


I  I 


The  last  time  I  passed  over  tlie  liistoric  water 
on  which  this  dreadful  battle  was  fought,  it  was 
in  a  yacht  at  whose  peak,  at  equal  height,  the 
Red  Cross  of  St.  George  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  waved  in  evidence  of  the  friendship  and 
affection  which  now  exists  hetween  the  two 
great  nations  which  seventy-six  years  ago 
fought  each  other  so  fiercely  in  Plattsburg  Bay. 

FORT    MONTGOMERY. 

At  the  northern  end  of  the  lake,  where  it 
narrows  into  the  river  Richelieu,  at  the  national 
boundary  line,  stands  Fort  Montgomery.  It  is 
a  large  fine  military  work  of  chiselled  stones, 
each  and  every  one  being  laid  with  the  skill  of 
finest  masonry.  It  was  begun  in  1844,  imme- 
diately upon  the  conclusion  of  the  Webster-Asli- 
burton  Treaty,  which  moved  our  national  line 
northward  from  Cumberland  Head  to  the  outlet  of 
the  lake,  wdiich  gave  us  not  only  much  valuable 
territory,  but,  in  case  of  war  with  Great  Britain 
or  Canada,  a  strategic  position  absolutely  beyond 
price.  This  fort  is  not  completed,  and  never  will 
be,  T  trust.  "We  need  no  military  works  upon 
this  continent  along  the  line  which  divides  the 


!  1 

TRA,..T,„XA,   AND   rnSTORrc   ,.KK,0„.        107 

c!: :;  r^'"':  °^  ''''*-  -■" -  a....  : 

can^^  are  one  m  dostin,.     Our  race  oharacter- 
'T'    ""'"    ««'">»ercial     interests,    our    social 

o    it  ar!         "'■'""  """^  *''"-'y  -™"-"«  north 
of  't  are  an  impossibility.     If   ;„   t,,^-,.  ;„ 

::r  r  ^-''"'"^■^•^ «-  --^"-  section  :z 

not    oa  esce  with  the  larger,  it  wouhl  surely  and 

-%  be  overborne,  not  hy  the  force  of  aril 
perhaps,    b„t    by  the   pressure   of   competitive' 

"d  n,;  r  :"'""' '"''  "'"^'^  -«-'.  fi-al, 

«wift.moving  and  all-powerful  development      U 

Ignore   continental   facts    nnrl    f^ 

+1  ,  ■^'*^'^*^   '^na   lorces,    and    spt 

hemselves  against  the  inevitable,  or  by  wro.  g 

of  natural  sequence.     And  it  is  nothing  short  of 
cnme  for  our  representatives  at  Washington  to 


108 


LAKK  riIAM!»r.AIN. 


trojii  iiio  so-called  Caiwidian  (juoHtioii  as  if  it 
wvw.  one  of  i.r(.'.s(.iil  paltry  uaiii  of  dollars  and 
cents,  whose  (otal  is  (oo  iiKionsidcrahlc,  in  the 
^roat  indk  of  national  (loninicrcc,  to  he  worthy 


of  attention.     Ottawa  and  Washington    shonld 


act  with  laruc  intcllio-ci 


)(U',  iKjt  with  petty  scru- 


tiny of  petty  things,  and  with  one  great  thought 
ever   in  mind,  that  this   vast  continent  and  all 
the  people  on  it  are,  hy  wise  management,  to  bo 
avoided  into  one  mighty  and  homogeneons  nation, 
and   that,  too,   spe(>(lily.     To   me   there   are  no 
Canadians  as  distinct  from  us  in  the  States.     I 
refuse  to  regard  tluMu    in   that  light.     We  are, 
upon  this  continent,  already  seventy  millions  of 
Celtic,    Saxon,  and    German    blood  —  the  three 
bloods   that   rule   the  world   to-day,  jind  are  to 
rul(>  it  for  all  the  future  —  and  we  are  all  Amer- 
icans, no  more  separate  than  Georgia  is  separate 
from    Vermont    or    New    York   from    Ontario. 
And,  hence,  I  say,  T  am  glad   that  Fort  Mont- 
gomery was  never  completed,  and  Uast  it  never 
will  be.     Its  casemates  and  its  cannon  represent 
the  past,  a  past  forever  dead  and  buried,  and  not 
the  present,  much  less  the  future.     There  has 
been  enough  of  wut  and  blood  upon  the  Riche- 


TKAl.lTroNAI,  AND  ll|.ST()RI(.  ,.,,;,«„,,       „,,, 

li''"!.  Let  tlior..  I„,  „„  ,„on,  f„rovor.  For  cent- 
•'"OS  it  was  U„  Rivi.-,,,,  ,,„  ,,,„|,„.^^  ,^^_j 
sav,-,g,.s  ,„,.,.]o  it  ,1  Hv,.r  of  l,lo,„|.     Tl,,,,  came 

""^  "■' '"■"'•  ■■'■"I    !<"■  two  l,„„,ln.,l  ,v,.a,-s  it 

was  the  '•iv,.rUlel,.|i„,,a,„|,|„,,,,„i„„.n,,,,,,,„.. 
'«"...£  enlhircl  cnrls.   ,.|„t(i„.  cal.inets,  ,.„„1 
a".b.t,o„s    „MMist,,.ns  ..rinis,,,,,.,!   its  cnrrcnt,  its 
««lgc.,   a„,|   i,.s   li|i,,,wi,|,   tl,el,l,.o,l„fan„ies 
BMtvvel,;,v.M.,„„ot„l,a|,i,ic.,.  tin„.s,an,I  to-,1av 

tlio  ploasm-e  yacht,  tl„.  Iiappy  tonrist,  tl,e  heavy 
boat  of  cin.norce  type  it,  a,,,]  tlm  n.orry  lan.-l, 

ami  lover's  song,  l„  the  plaee  „f  nlle ami  canno",. 
•shot,  are  heanl  in  the  hright  .layli.ol.t  and  (he 
flewy  evening  between  its  .naph.s  an.l  its  wil- 
lows. 

Fort  Montgomery  can  hnt  be  of  great  inter- 
est  to  the  tonrist.  an.l  will  well  n.pay  a  visit  of 
inspection.     It  was   bnilt  by  .lay's  work,  ,and 
under  inspection  of  olTicers  of  ability,  and  at  a 
co.^t,  even  as  it  stands,  of  over  three  millions  of 
dJlars  to  the  government.     Tiiere  is  no  fortress 
in  the  conntry  that  will  give  a  visitor  ,a  better 
Idea  of  what  a  f.rst-cla.ss  military  work  is  tlian 
this  strnctnre  at  the  outlet  of  Lake  Cl.amplain. 
It  IS  in  plain  view  from  the  Central  Vermont 


f*«" 


BSSBWffHT 


110 


LAKE  CilAMPLAIN. 


Railroad,  and  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
track.  Yachts  and  boats  can  approach  it  from 
the  water-side  to  the  very  walls ;  it  is  thus  most 
easy  of  access  to  the  travelling  public,  and  will 
prove  to  those  who  visit  it  a  most  instructive 
and  suggestive  spectacle. 

THE    RIVER    RICHELIEU. 

The    roots  of  a  nation's   history  are  in   its 
rivers.     They  were   its    earliest  pathways,  and 
its  infant  trade  was  nursed  upon  their  banks. 
On  them  its  pioneer  life  was  lived,  its  earliest 
battles   fought,  and   its  first   sufferings  borne. 
Along  their  banks  its  experimental  crops  were 
grown,  and  on  the  current  between  them  floated 
to  market.     The  rivers  of  a  land  are  its  most 
ancient  highways,  and  he  who  travels  observ- 
ingly  on  them  is  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
olden  times. 

The  Richelieu  — all  unknown  as  it  is  to  the 
average  American —  is  a  marvel  among  rivers. 
There  is,  perhaps,  no  other  river  on  the  globe  of 
equal  length  that  can  match  it  with  traditions 
so  potent  to  quicken  the  imagination  or  with  a 
history  so  closely  connected  with  the  progress  of 


TRADITIONAL  AND  HISTORIC  PERIOD.       Ill 

the  human  race.    To  the  reel  man^t  was  known 
as   the    Riviere    aiix    Iroquois,    so    called   from 
Labrador   to  Lake  Huron,  because  the  savage 
Iroquois  used  it  as  the  great  highway  of  their 
hostile  forays  into  the  North.      In  the  skin  tent 
of  the  Esquimaux,  in  the  bark  wigwam  of  the 
Montagnais  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sagucnay,  in 
the  great  Indian  villages  of  Lake  Huron,  and  in 
the  buffalo-skin  tepee  of  the  Western  Indians, 
this   river   was   called    by   one   and   the   same 
name  —  the  name  of  their  dreaded  foes,  that  no 
distance  intimidated  and  no  opposition  appalled. 
There  was  no  river  on  the  continent  that  had  so 
wide  a  fame  before  the  white  man  came  as  this 
stream  which  delivers  the  waters  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain  into  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Then  came  the  white  man.  French  ambition 
builded  its  eyrie  on  the  lofty  and  bald  promon- 
tory of  Quel)ec.  Dutch  commerce  centred  its 
growing  trade  on  Manhattan  Island,  and  the 
Puritans  laid  the  foundations  of  a  common- 
wealth around  Massachusetts  Bay.  And  for 
two  hundred  years  this  water-course  became 
the  great  highway  between  the  hostile  forces 
thus  gathered   at   the   North   and   the   South, 


m 


W  I' 


112 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAm. 


Great  arraie^  year   after  year,  toiled  up  and 
floated  down  its  .stream.     Healtl.  and  sickness, 
the  wounded  and  the  well,  tlie  living  and  the 
dying,  came  and  went  on  its  current.     Between 
Its  verdant  bank,,,  first  of  white  men  who  ever 
saw    them,    came    Champlain.      Then    follow 
Frontenac,   Montcalm,    Wolfe,    Arnold,   Mont- 
gomery, Schuyler,  Sullivan,  Carlton,   Dioskau, 
John.son,  Putnam,   Rogers,  and   all    the   «-eat 
chiefs  and  scouts  of  tlie  old  wars.     All   these 
with  their  thou..ands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
followers,  titled  and  unknown  alike,  came  and 
went  with  the  years  along  this  stream.     The 
great   Richelieu   and    tlie   greater   Pitt,    kin^s 
generals   of  fame   and    noted   diplomats,   have' 
a  1  studied  intently  the  rude  maps   on   which 
this  little  waterway  was   traced,  as  men  study 
the  cau.se  and  course  of  war,  and  the  way  to 
victory  and    empire.      There    is    Bloody   Isle 
whose  sands  and  sedgy  reeds  have  many  a  time' 
been  red   ^vith  human  blood.     There  is  Isle  le 
No.x,  with   its   old  earthworks,  within    whose 
embankuients  an  army  might  fight,  and  where 
many  an  army  has  stood.     The  elms  now  grow 
full  seventy  feet  in  lieight  upon  their  grassy 


TRADITIONAL  AND  IIISTOUIC  PERIOD.       113 
curvature,  and  in  the  long  summer  days  white 
lambs  nibble   and   play  i„  the  old  embrasures 
wliere   cannon   once   exploded.      There   is  the 
Cove  of  Death,  where  bloodiest   ambush   once 
was  made,  and  where  red  and  white  men  fou<dat 
with   knife   and   tomahawk,   and   rifle-clubbld 
until  the  shallow  channel  was  paved  with  bodies' 
so  thick  and  deep  that  the  living  made  of  them 
a  causeway  over  which  they  phmged  to  get  at 
each  other's  throats.     There  is  scarcely  a  curve 
m  this  stream,  or  point  reaching  out  into  it,  or 
isle  or  sandbar,  that  has  not  been  fought  over 
time  and  time  again  by  men  wlio  fou<dit  each 
other  face  to  face  and  breast  to  breast.  ^  I  doubt 
if  any  stretch  of  river  of  equal  length  in  any 
country  on  the  globe  has  so  much  of  history  in 
.t_  as  this  little  waterway  only  some   seventy 
miles  m  length,  known  as  the  Richelieu 

And  yet,  how  little  is  this  fact  appreciated 
even  by  the  intelligent  portion  of  the  great 
Republic  whose  liberty  and  prosperity,  ay,  even 
whose  existence  as  an  historic  possibility,  more 
than  once  depended  on  the  fate  of  martial  ex- 
peditions that  came  and  went  along  its  tide  i 
Moreover,  it  is  a  most  lovely  river;  lovely  to 


114 


LAKE  CIIAIMPLAIN. 


see  and  to  sail  on.    Next  to  the  Racquette,  as  it 
was   before   man   destroyed    its    beauty,    I   re- 
member it  as  as  lovely  a  bit  of  water  as  I  ever 
boated.     It  is  a  stream  of  gentle  current,  green 
flowery  banks  with  many  a  curve  and  charmin. 
stretch,  well  canopied  with  maples,  and  fringed 
with  shrubberies  that  scent  the  air  with  their 
sweet  odors.     It  i.s  an  ea.sy  day's  paddle  or  sail 
from  the  lake  to  St.  John.     In  a  steam-launch 
It  could  be  made,  both  the  coming  and  the  go- 
mg,  the  excursion  of  a  day.     To  all  who  read 
th,s  book,  I  commend  it  as  one  that  cannot  fail 
to  prove  .nost  enjoyable  in  the  act,  and  delight- 
ful m  reminiscence.     It  is  an  actual  loss  to  one 
who  loves  the  beautiful  or  appreciates  the  his- 
tono,not  to  have  traversed  this  section  of  the 
Kicnelieu. 


I  i 


PART   II. 

THE   GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK. 


If  the  reader  will  take  a  map  of  the  country, 
and,  beginning  at  Niagara  Falls,  draw  a   line 
eastward  to  Mount  Desert,  and,  with  this  as  the 
central  line,  construct  a   parallelogram,  he  will 
have   embraced  within   it   such  a  grouping  of 
natural  scenery  both  as  regards  sublimity  and 
beauty,  along  with  such  a  multitude  of  resources 
for  human  recreation  and  entertainment,  as  may 
not  be  found  elsewhere  in  connection,  either  on 
this  continent  or  in   Europe.     In    Niagara  he 
beholds  a  world-renowned  marvel.     To  it  there 
is,  among  waterfalls,  no  rival  on  the  globe.     It 
is  a  majestic  appearance  of  nature.    In  its  awful 
exhibition,  majesty  and   sublimity  reveal  their 
highest  expression.     In   its    contemplation  the 
beholder  enjoys  an  experience  which  can  never 
be  repeated.     He  sees,  he  feels,  and  out  of  .that 


116 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


ji' 


^M 


-e,ng  and  feeling  there  grows  „p  and  with 
h.m  re,„a,„.  forever  a  ™„g„ifieent  n^emory. 
N  agara  .  at  once  the  .ublhne.t  of  .peetae.es 
and  the  most  impressive  of  recollections 

Northward  of   the  great  cataract   flows   the 
St.  Lawrence ;  a  river  which  surpasses  all  others 
"  t  H.  world  :n  the  ny.tery  of  its  origin  ■  the 
length  and  number  of  its  tributaries,  the  enor! 
mous  an,ount  of  water  it  delivers  to  the  ocean 
the_  evenness  of  its  flow/  the  multitude  of  it 
rap.ds  and  islands ;  the  varied  loveliness  of  its 
riparian  scenery,  and  the  dim  traditions  and  his- 
tonc  memories  which  haunt,  like  summer  reflec 

tion    of  n.ght  and  day,  its  glassy  stream. 

Ihn-ty  years  ago  the  Thousand  Islands  were 
scarcely  knovn  to  the  American  public.  To-dav 
they  are  noted  from  one  end  of  the  country  to 

"  Tlie  Five  Great  Lakos  which  mak,.  .h.  c.  t 
graphical   won.er  are  ^n..,..U.^  T^Z      cT"'' ' ''^ 
explain  tlieni.     Even  thif  «fn,.     a        "^^'^^'y-      Geology    cannot 
Theory  ,„3e,  ,s  "!,  1  i',;  ""  "'""  """''"  «»  «-  ^aeial 
Even  1„  i,„agi„atio    t  i       ^^"ZZ  °V'""  '"'™°™"^- 
human  kncvlclge  an  I  neve    ,T,  ''''=""'  '''"^  "''"'^ 

-%  to  the  ground  t  :;:"t::"7- ,'™""  '="""■"'"'- 

fesses  it  is  unable  to  su....T,T  '"''""'  '"^'""-  •™'I  ™n- 

«ons  at  the  .eveutt^-ri,::'::;;::;:  "'"^°  ""'=""°- — 


THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK.  117 

the  other.     The  charin  of  their  tranquil  loveli- 
ness is  as  delightful  to  the  mind  as  tlie  specta- 
cle  of    Niagara   is   appalling.     Tlie    poet   and 
scholar,  the  artist  and  philosoplier,  the  weary 
business  man  and  college  student,  the  angler  and 
tourist,  —  that   hiveless   bee   that  buzzes   from 
flower  to  flower  and  gathers  sweetness  only  for  his 
own  transient  entertainment,  — wealth,  fashion, 
and  fame,  all  resort  to  this  picturesque  section 
of  the  noble  river,  as  fairies  of  every  order  are 
said  in  elfin  lore  to  gather  once  each  year  at  the 
most  lovely  centre  of  fairyland.     If  our  Eastern 
country  had  no  other  attractions  for  the  tourist 
and   lover    of    nature   than   Niagara   and   the 
Thousand  Islands,  these  alone   would  make  it 
famous,  and  draw   from  the    South  and  West 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  visitors  each  year. 
But  what  may  we  say  of  the  Adirondacks, 
that  Venice  of  the  woods,  whose  highways  are 
rivers,  whose  paths  are  streams,  and  whose  car- 
riages are  boats  ?     Thirty  years  ago  they  were  a 
wilderness,    a    wild,   unvalued    section   of    the 
Empire   State,  unknown   and  unnoted   save  to 
a  few  sportsmen  and  their  guides.     Suddenly 
they  were  revealed.     A  little  volume  was  pub- 


118 


K 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


l"l.ed  wluoh  told  of  their  extent,  their  charm- 
ing characteristics,  their  sanitarian  qualities,  and 
tho,r  provisions  for  sport.     The  great,  ignorant, 
stay-at-home,  egotistic  world  langhed  and  jeered 
and  tried  to  roar  the  book  down.     They  called 
It  a  fraud  and  a  hoax.     The  pictorials  of  the 
day  blazoned  their  broadsides  with  caricatures  of 
Murray  and  his  fools."     Innumerable  articles 
were  written  to  the  press,  and  editorials  pub- 
lished, denying  that  there  was  any  such  extent 
of  woods  in  the  State,  any  such  number  of  lakes 
any  such  phenomenal  connection  of  waterways' 
any  such  possibilities  of  pleasure  and  health  as 
the  little  book  portrayed.     It  should  be  remem- 
bered that  there  were  then  no   hotels  in   the 
woods,  no  railroad   facilities   of  entrance   and 
exit,  no   accommodation    for   sick  or  well    no 
moneyed  interest,  as  there  is  to-day,  to  assist  the 
influence   of    that   first    publication.     But   the 
tacts  of  geography  and  the  truth  of  nature  were 
in  It,  and  it  successfully  breasted  the  current 
of  adverse  criticism   and   hostile   comment,  of 
innuendo  and  jeer,  and  earried  the  fame  of  the 
woods  over  the  continent;  and  to-day  there  is 
no  spot   betwixt  the  two  oceans  or  the  two 


IL,  J 


THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK. 


119 


gulfs  better  known  or  more  loved  by  those  who 
visit  them  than  the  far-famed  Adirondacks. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  I  visited  them. 
And  since  I  kindled  my  last  campfire   on  the 
Racquette  I  have  lighted  many  in  many  places, 
and   as   widely  apart  as   the   continent  would 
allow.     And   I   can   well   imagine   that   many 
changes  have  come  to  the  woods  whose  quietude 
and  loneliness  and  the  absence  of  the  coming 
and  going  of  men  made  them  so  attractive  to 
me  when,  in  other  years,  I  visited  them.     They 
even  say  that  the  little  wild  island  I  loved  in 
the  Pvacquette,  and   on   whose    ledge   of   rock, 
under  untouched  trees,   I  built  my  lodge,  has 
been  civilized  by  the   axe  and  the  plough,  and 
that  the  divine  silence  of   the  Sabbath   air   is 
jarred  into  discord  by  the  clang  and  rattle  of  a 
chapel  bell!      But,  in   spite   of    all   these   sad 
changes  and  profanations,  I  doubt  not  that  the 
woods  still  have  their  beauty,    the  mountains 
keep  their  majesties,  the  lakes  glass  storm  and 
shine  by  day  and  the  stars  at  night,  and  that 
the  pools  are  as  clear  and  cool  as  of  yore,  albeit 
they  lack  the  flash  and  gleam  of  finny  splendor 
which  shot  them  through  and  througli  with  color 


1^ 


f 


'! 
I 


120 


i^AKi:  CIIAMI'LAIN. 


in  the  days  when  I. hacked  tl,c.ir  smooth  surface 
Willi  my  tniiliiig  flies. 

ab,de,  the  lakes  „u,r„„,r  converse  to  the  shores 

he  nvors,Wo„,  the  pools  stil,  go  round,  and' 
the  trees  .u  the  war.a  nig|,ts  d,„,,  ^heir  odorous 

gums  to  tlie  scented  n.onld,  as  tliey  did  when  I 

«avv  and  heard  and  breathed  their  beauty  and 

peAune      And  while  these  remain,  the  Adiron- 

diick  wilderness  nu.st  ever  be  what  it  is  to-day 

he   most   unique,    pieturesque,  charging,  and 

-Ithfu,  section  of  the  continent,  the  on':  place 
fo.  all  to  vis.t,  and  which  not  to  have  seen  is  to 
remain  imtra veiled. 

But  wlut  shall  we  say  of  the  Horicon,-  of 
A«  Sable  Chasm,  of  the  springs  of  Saratoga,  of 

he  valley  of  the  Le  Mode,  of  the  Green   Moun- 
tains, whose  ridges  should  be  white  with  hotels, 

the   WrrM     ""'""*  ""''  ^^''"-Pi-ogee,  of 
the   VYhite  Mountains,  of  which  no   one   iias 

a.«l,  if  it  oannotV  t;    ™       W       "r    °°'''  "  "  ""Sa.i.ation, 
luoi,  _  „.l,ioi,  i,  „„,, '  °"  " ."'  ^"'^  '•'"  I'-l""!'  -  ''ake  of  the  Iro- 

".at  coope;:,::  „  ;r  r "tfr' "'°" '  ■"*"■  "■»  -- 

esignate  it,  -  the  Honcon  -  Silvery  Water. 


TlIK  GREAT  NATIONAf,  PARK.  121 

written  fittingly  .si„co  that  prio«t  of  God  and  of 
nature  both,  Starr  King,  died?   For  the  eye  tliat 
sees  not  only  the  outward  form  but  the  inner 
sp.nt  which  tlie  form  conceal,  from  most;  the 
ear  that  hears  not  only  the  undulating  sound 
wh.ch  strikes  all  ears  alike,  but  the  voice  which 
dwells  within  the  sound  and  is  alone  worth  hear- 
ing because  it  alone  signalizes  it  with  meaning  • 
the     nose    which    distinguishes    between    the 
breaths  it  draws,  divides  co.nuion  from  uncom- 
mon an-,  and  calls  that  only  worthy  of  praise 
that  IS  distinguished  with  some  fine  quality  •  a 
cho.ee   perfun,e,  a   rare   fragrance,  a   pungent 
trace   of    ozone. -that    unembodied    vitalness 
breathed  n,to  lower  atmospheres  out  of  God's  • 
he  who  has  not  these  and  other  rare  gifts  is  not 
fitted  to  write  of  woods  and  waters,  of  lakes  and 
mountams,  of  day  and  night,  as  they  come  from 
and  go  into  eternity,  because  he  cannot  sense 
their  higli  significance  or  materialize  their  fine 
volatile  qualities  into  the  solid,  opaque  charac- 
ters of  human  language.     These  gifts  King  had 
ami    had  he  lived,  he  would  have  interpreted' 
the  White  Hills  as  they  deserve.    But,  alas,  he 
uied,   killed,  as   was   the   poet  White,  by  the 


122 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


i    ' 


fervid  ze;il  of  liis  own  genius ;  and  the  famous 
mountains  remain  witliout  a  propliet  until  this 
day. 

Within  this  parallelogram,  moreover,  are  the. 
Rangoloy  Lakes,  and   Moosehead ;   Bar   Harbor 
and    Mount    Desert,  and  Poland  Springs  ;    and 
nigh  to  its  southern  line  are  the  beaches  of  New 
Hampshire   and  Massacliusetts,  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill.     And  fringing  the  eastern  end  of 
It    are    the    caribou    and    moose     regions    of 
northern    Maine    and    New     BrunswLk,     the 
salmon  rivers  that  are  to  anglers  as  the  magnet 
is   to    grains    of   steel,    and    but   a    little    way 
beyond   lie   the   peaceful    meadows   of  Acadia, 
and  the  home  of  Evangeline. 

Now  at  the  centre  of  this  marvellous  paral- 
lelogram,  crowded    as   it   is   with   wonders   of 
nature,  with   every  class  of  scenery  known  to 
mountains   and   forests,   rivers  and   lakes,  and 
provided   with  every    provision    for   sport   and 
recreation,  pleasure  and  health,  which  the  enter- 
prise and  money  of  men  can  provide,  is  located 
Lake   Champlain,  in  many  respects   the   most 
interesting  and  attractive  section  of  the  whole. 
It  is  characterized  by  the  length  and  breadth  of 


■J'llK  (JItKAT  NATIONAL   PARK.  123 

its  waters;  tlu-  ■nultitn.U.  a,,.]  loveliness  of  it, 
■elands  ;  tl,e  n.ajosl^-  of  il.s  surrounding  nioun- 
ta.ns ;  ti.e  pastoral  beauty  of  its  shores,  u„d  the 
h.stor,c  n,e,n„ries  with  which  it  is  and  must 
ever  remain  in  vital  and  vivid  eonnection. 

For   the  lover  of  aboriginal    traditions   and 
rehes  ,t  supplies  a  field  absolutely  unexplored, 
lo   the  angler  it  gives  a  habitat  of  the  black 
bass  as  abundantly  stocked  as  any  other  stretch 
of  American    water.      To    the    yachtsn,an    it 
affords   opportunities   of    pleasure,   navigation, 
and  amateur  seamanship  as  ample  as  sound  or 
ocean  coast   supply,  while  to  the  canoeist  and 
campist  it  extends,  in   its  bays  and  rivers,  its 
islands  and  its  shores,  its  golden  beaches  and 
bold  promontories,  ideal  conditions  of  recreation 
and  enjoyment,  and  the  health  which  comes  to 
those  who  love  the  outdoor  life  and  world 

Nor  is  it  less  remarkable  for  its  connections. 
Ihe  Adu-ondacks  come  to  its  western  beach,  and 
the  Green  Mountains  slope  gradually  down  to 
Its  eastern  shore.  The  Chasm  of  the  Au  Sable 
IS  w.thm  easy  walk  of  it,  and  the  Horicon  is  its 
n.gh  neighbor.  The  ruins  of  Ticondero£.a  and 
Orown  Poi 


are 


on  it,  and  the  delights  of  the 


i. 


I'  i 


124 


LAKE   CHAiVIPLAIN. 


Hudson  witliin  a  few  hours'  travel,  while  by  its 
outlet  to  the  north  the  steam-launch  and  sailing- 
yacht  can   glide    downward   to   the    broad   St. 
Lawrence,  and  thence  go  upward  to  the  Thou- 
sand   Islands   or  downward  to   Quebec,    Mont- 
morency,  and  the    Saguenay.      Its    waters  are 
traversed  by  steamers  that,  in  size  and  appoint- 
ments, are  excelled  only  by  the  floating  palaces 
of   Long  Island  Sound,  and   the  railways  that 
touch  it  at  many  points  enable  the   tourist  to 
pass,  by  day  or  night,  in  any  direction.     Intelli- 
gently estimated,  and  weighed  in  the  balance  of 
considerate  comparison,  it  is  the  most  beautiful 
lake  on  the  continent,  and  to  him  who  sees  it 
for  the  first  time  it  is  both  a  revelation  and  an 
education. 

Congress  may  resolve  and  newspaper  corre- 
spondents may  with  hasty  pen  declare  that 
this  or  that  spot,  distinguished  by  some  local 
phenomena,  shall  be  known  as  the  National 
Park,  but  neither  formal  resolution  nor  hasty 
verdict  of  casual  writers  can  change  the  geog- 
raphy of  the  continent  or  the  facts  of  nature ; 
and  these  declare  — and  with  an  emphasis  that 
cannot  be   misunderstood   or  unheeded   by  the 


THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK.  125 

intelligent  —  that  the  Great  National  Park,  for 
the  whole  American  people,  lies  within  the  lines 
of  the  parallelogram  I  have  suggested,  and  to  it 
there  is  not  now,  and  never  can  be,  on  the  con- 
tinent, a  rival.     Niagara,  the  Thousand  Islands, 
the  Adirondacks,  the  Horicon,  Champlain  with 
its  battle  memories,  the  White  Mountains,  and 
the  coast  of  Maine  are  all  in  it,  and  there  they 
will  remain  forever.     These  great  and  admira- 
ble  objects    of  nature    can   never   be    removed 
either  to  the  south  or  west,  but  will  abide  where 
God  has  placed  them ;  and  to  them,  to  see,  to 
admire,  to  marvel,  and  enjoy,  will  the  thousands 
and  millions  of  the  American  people  who  love 
nature  and  have  reverence  for  shrmes  annually 
journey. 

It  was  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic  that  the 
Republic  was  born.  Here  was  she  cradled,  and 
here  was  her  early  loveliness  grown.  The 
American  people  know  this  fact,  and  to  the 
East  will  the  millions  continue  to  come  as  to 
the  birthplace  of  the  nation.  The  continental 
lines  of  travel  will  cross  the  continent  from 
ocean  to  ocean,  not  from  gulf  to  gulf,  and  the 
millions  upon  millions  that  are  in  the  years  to 


frfl 


ft 


126 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


;  I 


I  ^ : 


I 


I!      I 


come  to  people  the  prairies  and  valleys  of  the 
Great  West  will  seek  recreation  and  pleasure 
among  the  hills  and  lakes,  the  rivers  and 
mountains,  of  the  section  I  have  suggested, 
and  which  is,  by  nature  and  fact,  and  is  des- 
tined to  be  called,  The  Great  National  Park 
of  the  liejmhllc. 

If  those  who  now  control  the  present  lines  of 
travel,  and  who,  with   their  successors,  should 
naturally  construct  the  additional  accommoda- 
tions as  called  for,  are  wise,  they  will  do  well 
to  bear  in  mind  that  the  places  the  people  want 
to  see  are  here  in  the  East,  and  that  the  great 
bulk  of  the  people   who  would   fain  see  them 
are   in   the  West.     The   places   are    here,   the 
people  are  there,  and  how  to  bring  people  and 
places  together  easily  and  quickly  is  the  prob- 
lem for  them  to  solve.     The  pleasure  resorts  of 
which  we  have  spoken  find  their  patrons  to-day 
chiefly  from   the  cities  of   the  Atlantic  Coast. 
But  the  population  east  of  the  Alleghanies  and 
the  Great  Lakes  is  but  a  small  fraction  of  the 
mighty  total  which  represents  the  nation.     The 
sceptre    of    numbers    has    already    passed    to 
the  prairies,  and  the  sceptre  of  wealth  is  sure 


THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK.  127 

to  follow.     But  what  are  tliese  compared  with 
those  great  centres  of  population  which  will  be 
grouped  here  and  there  clean  across  the  great 
basin   which   extends  westward   to   the  Rocky 
Mountains  ?     It  is  not  beyond  reason  to  believe 
that  at   least  one  of  those  Western  cities  will 
have,  within  fifty  years,  more  inhabitants  than 
Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  Boston  combined. 
If^  the  causes  which  have  given  London  its  five 
millions  are  not    so   exceptional    as    never   to 
be   operant   again  or  elsewhere,  then  is   it   as 
certain   as   the   sun    shines    that    Chicago,   at 
some  period  not  remote,  will  have  within  her 
corporate   limits   from   ten  to  fifteen   millions 
of  people. 

If  the  Republic  endures  in  peace  and  prosper- 
ity, there  surely  will   be  gathered  within  two 
centuries   on   the   shore   of    Lake   Michigan   a 
city  which  for  the  wealth  and  number  of   its 
citizens,  the  magnificence  of  its  appearance,  and 
the  power  of  the  forces  it  represents,  has  never 
been   equalled   since   men   were    grouped    into 
nations,    felt   the    force   of    centralization,   and 
built   cities   to   express   the   grandeur  of   their 
ambitions  and  the  glovy  of  their  civilization. 


II    ^'i 


I 


>4 

I  (lii 


i  11 


11 


128 


LAKK   CHAMI'I.AIN. 


TI,o  old  Now-Kn,i.lan,l  nests  are  empty  and 
«.Id  be,.u,.se  tl,c  y,„„,^,  |,i,,,„  ,,|,i,,,  „„^^  ^^„^^ 
.^d  wa..,„ed  tlH.,„  witl,  life  |,,.„ve  llown  abroad. 

V^^ith  tl,e,r  winss  .a.Mo  sing«,  and  sinijly  and 

'"  lloel<.s  tlK-y  wont  forth  t„  (ind  new  places  for 
"«'w  nests  and  new  colonies.     lint  the  line,s  of 
«'<■"•   'ligl.t  were  not   hidden,   and    the   world 
know,s  whither  they  went  and  where  they  are 
Bnt  w,th  then,  went  love  for  the  old  places  and 
meniory ;  and  the  sons  and  dani,d,ters  of  New 
I'^ngland    ron.en.her    lier   mountains    and    her 
lakes,  her  rivers  and  her  shores,  and  the  l,on,es 
of  the.r  fathers.     Nor  will  they  ever  forget  her 
'""tops  and  her  valleys.     These  and  their  de- 
scendants still   see   the  star.s  of  the  East  and 
love   then,,   a,„l   while   hlood    is   thicker   than 
water  and  p,-osperity  abides  with  the  nation,  a 
long  and  ever  gTowing  p„,ce.sRion  of  men  and 
wo.nen,   half    pilgH.ns   a„d    half   tonrists,  will 
with  the  coining  of  s,„n,ner  and  autumn  jour- 
ney eastward  to  see  the  fields  and  woods,  the 
lakes  and  hill.s  that  thei,-  fo,-efatl,ers  saw,  and 
rekn.dle    the  toi^ch  of   fa.nily  affectio.i   at  the 
heart^istones  of  their  ancesto,-s.     The  West  and 
the   East   of    the   nation    stand   connected    aS 


THE  GREAT  NATIONAL  PARK.  129 

children  are  connected  with  parents  and  midday 
is  related  to  morning. 

1  foresee  the  day,  not  as   remote  hut  nigh, 
when  the  Great  Lakes  shall  he  utilized  for  the 
purposes  of  pleasure  as  fully  as  for  trallic;  when 
magnificent   steamers    shall    take   the    summer 
tourists  at  Chicago  wharves  and  transport  them 
eastward;    when    the    Thousand    Islands    and 
Niagara  shall  be  in  direct  water  comiection  for 
excursionists  from  the  West ;  when  long  trains 
of  palace  cars  shall  run  direct,  without  diange, 
from    Chicago,    St.     Louis,    Minneapolis,    and 
Denver  to    the  Adirondacks,   Lake  Champlain, 
and    tlie    White    Mountains ;  the  lovely  AVinni- 
pesaukee,  the  lakes  of  Maine  and  its  celebrated 
beaches ;    when    the   great    pleasure    resorts  of 
the    nation,    which    are    here  '  [ind    ever    will 
remain  here  in   the  East,  will    be  in  as  direct 
and    facile    connection    with   the    cities   of   the 
West    as    are    Philadelphia,    New     York,    and 
Boston  to-day;  and  I  anticii)at(^  that  this  annual 
visitation    of  tliousands  from  the  West  to  the 
East,  as  prompted  hy  the  love  of  pleasure,  of 
health  and  ancestral  memories,  will  not  be  the 
least  among  those  unifying  forces  upon  which 


lao 


LAKE  ("IIAMn.AfX. 


we  must  rely  to  preserve  tlie  great  Ropul.lic,  a« 

if  s  imil.on.  .Multiply,  i„  the  unity  vvhieh  i,s  born 
from  and  niaintaine.l  l,y  „,utual  aciuaintance 
and  artection  between  il«  widely  separated 
sections. 


i 


PART  III. 

LAKE    CITAMPLAIN    AN^D     THK    FACILITIES 
IT  OFFEHS  TO    I'ACIITSAIEN. 


Each  summer  the  tide  of  travel  on  the 
Atlantic  slope  sets  with  a  stronger  and  deeper 
current  northward.  The  mountains  and  the 
sea,  the  woods  and  the  beaches  are  in  rivalry, 
and  slowly  but  surely  the  mountains  and  the 
woods  are  winning.  The  cities  of  the  seaboard 
are  like  ovens  each  summer,  and  thousands 
come  pouring  out  of  them  when  driven  by  the 
awful  heat,  crying,  "  Whither  shall  we  go  ?  " 

To  the  seashore?  Certainly,  if  you  cannot 
find  a  better  resort ;  but  all  of  us  know  that 
the  seashore  is  but  little  better  than  the  oven, 
and  often  worse.  The  dead  glare,  hour  after 
hour,  on  the  level  and  blistering  sea ;  the  rank 
smells  of  the  marsh  bogs  and  the  oozy  flats 
steaming  stenchfully  under  the  hot  rays  when 
the  tide  is  out ;  the  night  fogs  and  chilly,  damp 


m 


182 


LAKK  CIIAMI'LAIN. 


*  '.III 


i:i| 


I!:    ,    ill 

-   in 


n.orn,ng.s;  tl,e  soppy  ,nist,  wl.ici,  r„ll  their 
wetno.ss  tvcu  inU,  you,,  .sleeping.,,,,,,,,,,.  ,,^ 
tl.cn  the  ,l,s,„al,  ,.,u„y  ,„o,.„ings  „,„„  t,,„     ^^,^^ 

>«  as  se.wee.1  and  all  tl,e  treo.H  ,,,.ip  cl.eerk..s.sly, 
oh  I  know  well  what  the  nn,eh-la„,,ecl  seashore 
IS,  tor  I  was  born  on  it. 

Lo«i  By,.„n  is  the  only  „„„  who  ever  made 
the  sea  attractive.  He  pitched  the  ro.sona,nce  of 
-  verse  to  the  keynote  of  its  thunder,  and 
^sent  ho  jar  and  terror  of  its  waves  through  the 
^  -eture  of  his  stanza,  so  that  they  roU  and 
r      and  ,„„„,,,,  ,^^^,,^__^^^^^^^^^^^. 

>ead  as  b.llows  "po"  u  beach -thunderingly 
He  too,  g,ftcd  being  as  he  was,  could  catch  it,, 
softer  n,oods  and  ,nake  its  whispers  run  alon. 
h.s  lines  so  coyly  and  soothingly  that  the  ..,der 
>«  made,  pe,.fo.-ce,  to  admire  its  n.ajcsties  , 
gentleness.  But  all  the  time,  if  you  be  a  eoast- 
born  „,an  you  ,,„,  ,„  „„^^,^^  ^^^,,.  ^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^ 

poet  .sfoohng  you -that  it  is  all  false  and  not 

true  which  you  are  reading;  a  poetic  fiction  and 
not  the  actual  fact. 

And  that  is  the  case  truly.  For  the  sea  is 
murderous,  cruel,  and  catlike  in  its  treacherous 
habits,  and  all  shore  men  know  it.     It  tempta 


YAC;i ITING  FACILITIES. 


133 


one  out  upon  its  surface,  toys  witli  you  for  an 
hour  most  i)leasanily  to  yourself;  then  sud- 
denly and  fiercely  tosses  you  up,  and  you,  com- 
ing down  beneath  an  overturned  boat,  — why, 
the  "beautiful  sea"  has  enric^hed  its  vast  death- 
chamber  with  another  cori)se  ! 

Two  yachtsmen,  after  storm, —out  of  whose 
clutch  their  yacht  had  been  wrenched  as  by  the 
hand  of  God,  — were  strolling  on  a  beach  one 
morning,  with  the  dear  old  pines  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  dread  billows  still  rolling  hungrily 
on  the  other,  when,  clambering  around  a  point 
of    slippery    rocks,    they    suddenly    saw,    half 
embedded  in    the  sand,  two  white   faces  lying 
side  by  side.     A  man's  and  woman's  face,  both 
young,    lying   so  closely   that   the  pale  cheeks 
almost    touched.      Doubtless    they    had,    when 
warm  with  life,  touched  each  other  lovincrlv  a 
thousand    times,    for    surely   these    two    lying 
thus   on  a  foreign  beach,  a   thousand    leagues 
from  home,    were    lovers,    death-mated.     They 
were     young     emigrants      seeking     by     faith 
another   and    a    better   country.       God    grant 
they  found  it ! 

See  his  strong  boots  reaching  heavily  above 


134 


f^AKK   CIIAMPLAIN. 


;;;:  '"T;";'  '":^  ■^""•^'  ■^'"-     But  l,ow  shapely 

U(,uil,j!     loor,  1,,-ave  little  foot 

thou  (lulst  coine  to  tlie  end  of  tl„.  •  , 

denlv       Tl  •  •^  journey  sud- 

donly.      Thy   sunrKse    was    thy   noonday    and 

■no  ovo.„u,  too ,     See  the  .and  in  tl/.an'! 

tint  th  "  ■"  '''"'  ^''^^  '"•-  "'  -'- 

tl'at  thou   uM.,st   look  close   to   see   the   sifted 

g-s.     And  the  youn,  wou,,,u's.  .hat  a  sa,., 
weaitii    was    Lnvcn    ]ipv   fr... 

,,  ,  ^^^"   ^^^^   J«i    ornament!      How 

co.d     Ws  he   so   black,  she   hein,  a  Gennan 

7    , '■'"  ^«'P'  «•  ^^'''"  for  "nnum- 
-;     ngos   dwelt  whore  Spain  nou-   is:   who 
trad,  , on   says,  conciuered    the  world,  and   the' 

warth     eauty  of  whose  wcnen  can  be  fonnd 
'-e   and    there  to-day  on   every  shore  of  tl.e 

;r  ,  T*  '     \  '^"°^^  -'■     '  0"b'  know  th 

bins  half  eu^bedded  in  tl>e  sand;  one  of  a 
man  the  other  a  woman's ;  the  ,nan's  beanti- 
Mb  Wond.  the  woman's  gloriously  dark  • 
y.ng  so  closely  each   to   the   other  L   they' 

Wttonchod    and  so  saying, -Oh,  finder  of 
'  ^"^  ''"  '''"  '"^■^'•^  -"rdered  by  the  dreadful 


YACHTING    FACIMTrivS.  I35 

sea;  Init  wo  kissod  .aoh  oil.or  in  the  wliito  surf 
out  yonder  bcfoio  we  died." 

But  what  sliall  I  say  of  the  unsoon  faces  ^ 
the  faces  tljat  disappear  in    storm    and  wreck 
.'vnd  are  never   found?     Have    F  not  tiuie  and 
agani  sat  on  the  gray  rocks  by  tlie  scsa  line  with 
closed  eyes  and  seen  them  stretcli  away  in  rows 
a  Inuidred,  a  thousand  wliite  faces,  all  having  the 
same  white,  rigid  look  on  them?     Yes,  I  have 
seen  the  bottom  of  the  sea  revealed  —  a  hell  of 
sight -the    still  white   faces,   and   above    and 
among   them    tlie    dreadful    creatures    that  eat 
them  — the  creatures  that  make  the  life  of  the 
sea;    the   eyeless  and  sightless  things  that  are 
directed  in  their  courses  by  other  senses  than 
that   of   sight.     You   love   the    sea?     Love   it 
then  in  your  ignorance,  and  thank  God  you  are 
Ignorant,  or  else  can  see  nothing  save  the  sur- 
face.    A  great  and  dreadful  deceit  is  the  sea, 
and  we  who  have  sailed  on  it  know  it. 

But  the  woods,  the  dear,  frank,  innocent 
woods.  God  bless  them !  They  kill  no  one. 
At  their  sweet  roots  no  lovers,  sleeping,  die. 
Along  their  green  edges  no  man  and  maiden  lie 
^ide  by  side,   dead,   killed   by  their  treachery. 


Hi 


136 


IMKK   ClIAMl'LAIN. 


'•M 


I 


0  c     ,n   a  In,„drc.,l  years,  i.H.p.s,   one  ,„a„, 
;■"'  '"^  ''^'  •■'^'^"'«''t'  i-^  ><ill«J  by  tlie  falling  of  a 
tree  _  .son.e   poor,   dead    tree    that   oonld   not 
Btand  one  „„tant  longer,  nor  l,elp  f,on,  falling 
]"st  then  an,l  there.     Ay,  the  dear  wood.s  that 
kill  no  one,  ten.pt  no  one,  but  rather  warn  you 
to  keep  out  of  their  depths,  near  their  bright 
m.arg,n.s,  where  the  «un  shine,,,  flower.s  bloo^m 
'«d  open  spaces  are;  the  woods  that  cool  you' 

-wuhtheirstored  coolness;  rest  you  so  with 
their  untaxed  restfulness;  that  never  rnoan  of 

2  .ts  because  they  have  killed  any  one,  but 
rather  because  any  one,  for  any  cause,  n.ust  be 
killed,  the  world  over.  Yes  v,.«  T„v 
"gilt.  There  will  be  "  no  sea  there !  "  Had 
he  been  shipwrecked  ?  Had  he  some  mornin. 
strolling  on  the  beaches  of  the  Isle  of  Patmol 
lound  two  white  faces  embedded  in  the  sand  ^ 

No  matter  from  what  cause  or  by  what  awful 
foct  mspred  with  shrinking,  the  old  Divine 
Dreamer  sensed  the  truth.  Man  has  wreck  and 
death  enough  here.  It  is  only  Just  tliat  he 
should  journey  beyond  it  when  he  enters  the 
vast  hereafter. 

I  predict,  therefore,  that   the  great  tide  of 


YACHTING  FACU.ITIES. 


137 


American  travel  will  soon  set  nortlnvard  away 
from  the   t.v;,d.erous,  inurdc.rouH,  dirty  sea,  to 
the    frank,   clean   woods    that  are   inland,   and 
winch   make  .,11  this   far  north   country  sweet 
with  thoir  odorous  gums,  even  to  the  white  line 
where  snow  never  melts.     Oh,  if  1  might  only 
spend    my  years    beneath   the   trees,  eat  under 
them,  sleep  under  them,  work,  dream,  and  die 
under  them  !     How  strange  that  when  Heaven 
waits  only  on  the  decision  of  our  wills  we  refuse 
to  say  the  word  or  take  the  step,  and  so  adjourn 
It  mdefinitely  until  by  the  passage  of  that  swift 
force  which  we  name  death  we  are  pushed  sud- 
denly   out   of    our    hesitation   and    are    in    our 
heaven,  perhaps  '•  in  f]ie  twinkling  of  an  eye." 

What  companionship  there  is  in  trees !  Who 
ever  saw  two  alike?  This  one-~a  mighty 
trunk -is  vast  and  round,  and  smooth  al  an 
Egyptian  column.  Yonder  there  stands  a  group, 
seven  in  all,  grave  as  statesmen,  — 

"On  wliose  ivied  brows  tlie  cares  of  nations  sit." 

The  central  one  suggests  the  Websterian  type, 

strong,  rough,  and  massive.     Others  yonder  are' 

spripjhtlv,  suave.  a,n^  r>]iont    n-^l'^o    --    * 
"    ~      '  -  -' riirtiit,  poiibG,  insinuating; 


II    t 


^^^  LAKE  CHAMPLAm. 

wliile  others,  on  that  island  tliere,  are  simply 
gigantic  posts  with  sap  in  them,  that  stand  like 
the  old  Dutch  burgliers  i„  heaviest  armor,  per- 
fectly symbolizing  the  old  Dutch  motto,  "Made 
to  stand,  not  run."     Not  a  bad  motto,  friend; 
by  which  to  shape  the  character  of  your  boy  in 
tliese   fickle   times   of  ours.      And   then,   how 
chatty  trees  can  be.     Naturalists  tell  us  that  in 
all  forms  of  life  there  is  sex.     The  trees  are 
therefore,  male  and  female,  and  have  their  court- 
ships and  their  wooings  too.     Perhaps  there  are 
•  flirtations  among  them ;  wlio  can  tell  ?    If  so 
how  delicious  tliey  must  be,  for  their  conceal- 
ment is  so  perfect ! 

^    I  take  it  that,  all  things  considered,  yachting 
IS  the  most  healtliful  and   manly  recreation  a 
man  can  take,  and  that,  in  all  the  conditions  of 
enjoyment  to  the  average  lover  of  nature,  yacht- 
ing m  inland  waters  is  superior  to  yachting  on 
the  outer  seas.     For  inland  boating,  while  the 
yaclitsman,  beyond  doubt,  misses  the  impressive 
grandeur  of  the  outer  sea,  its  magnificent  exhi- 
bitions of  force  and   the  grave  majesty  of  its 
vast   spaces,   he   is,   on   the    other    hand,   the 
recipient  of  many  favors  which  appeal  delight- 


YACHTING  FACILITIES,  139 

f"%  to  his  senses  and  minister  in  a  rare  degree 
to  his  mmd  and  soul.  .. 

To  a„  American  yachtsman,  especially,  inland 
yachtmg  has  a  peculiar  charm,  and  yields  him 
a  singular  enjoyment.     His  is  the  only  country 
nhabited  by  civilized  nations  which,  in  its  si.e 
and  facd.ties  of  water  communication,  is  conti- 
nental.    To  say  that  a  yacht  of   eight  or  ten 
tons  can  be  sailed  by  a  party  of  tourists  four  or 
five  thousand  miles  without  passing  out  of  inland 
waters,  and  never  over  the  same  com-se  twice 
.s  a  statement  calculated  to  astound  a  European' 
and  even  an  American,  we  fancy,  would  have 
to  look  up  h,s  geography  a  little  to  credit  it. 
But,  ,f  he  will  take  his  map,  he  will  see  at  a 
glance  how  easily  the  thing  can  be  done,  and 
that   he  five  thousand  miles  can  easily  be  made 
ten  thousand,  ,f  the  party  can  extend  its  vaca- 
tion  „ne  a  month  or  so.     Burlington,  or  rather 
this  lake  lying  in  front  of  Burlington,  is  the 
natural  centre  and  starting-point  for  such  mag- 
n.ficent  touring.     It  is  large  enough  to  supply 
acuities  for  aquatic  training  requisite  for  such 
as,  not  having  it,  must  prepare  themselves  for 
these  splendid  voyages.     It  is  the  only  lake  in 


140 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


i   vSli! 


l!H 


all  this  east  country  of  ours  that  can  serve  as  a 
school  in  which  practical  knowledge  of  yachts 
and  yachting  can  be  taught.     It  is,  moreover,  so 
placed  as  to  be  easily  accessible  from  the  great 
seaboard  cities,  from  which  the  majority  of  our 
true  tourists  and  sportsmen  come.     It  is   sur- 
rounded  by   natural    scenery   of    the    liighest 
order.     Its  shores  and  bays  are  alive  with  his- 
toric memories,  which  quicken  patriotism  and 
ennoble  the  character  of  whosoe'er  receives  their 
inspiration.     Here  are   ruins   of   ancient  forts. 
Here  the  lines  of  old-time  earthworks  still  stand. 
Here  nature  has  accumulated  chasm,  gorge,  and 
mountains  for  the  lover  of  the  grand  and  pic- 
turesque to  admire,  and  he  who  sails  its  blue 
water   recalls   that   in  days  that  are  past   the 
two  most  martial  races  of  all  the  world,  and  the 
two  rival  civilizations  of  modern  times,  stood 
for  a  hundred    years  in   arms,  and   contended 
fiercely  for  no  less  a  prize  than  the  possession 
of  the  American  continent.     Verily,  what  other 
lake  can  offer  the  young  yachtsman  the  oppor- 
tunity to  learn  the  art  of  sailing  his  little  craft 
safely  amid  such  enjoyable  and  inspiriting  sur- 
roundings as  can  this  one,  located  as  it  is  nigh 


"vo3k  iwi^ 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  lU 

the  great  centres  of  our  population,  and  amid 
the  noblest  sights  of  nature  ? 

Observe,  moreover,  the  water  connections  of 
this  lovely  and  extended  lake.     Sailing  hence, 
the  yachtsman  finds  an  easy  outlet  through  the 
Richelieu   River   to    the    St.    Lawrence  -  that 
marvellous  stream  along  whose   level  channel 
half  the  fresh  water  of  the  globe,  it  is  said,  is 
poured   downward  to  the  sea.     The   Richelieu 
River  takes  him  to  the  St.  Lawrence ;  down  its 
broad  current   he    descends   to    Quebec,   whose 
prominence  in  American  history  lifts  it  more 
loftily  before  the  student's  mind  than  the  rocky 
promontory  on  which  it  stands  lifts   it    before 
his  eyes.     Downward   still   he   floats   until   he 
beholds  Montmorenci's  fleecy  falls,  whose  waters 
leap  from  a  loftier  height  than  Niagara  plunges 
Below  he  finds  the  shrine  of  St.  Anne,  aromid 
which  pilgrims  by  the  thousand  kneel  each  year, 
and  realize  the  miraculous  powers  of  heaven' 
as  the  suppliants  are  said  to  have  realized  it  of 
old.     Still  downward  he  sails  past  the  Isle  of 
Bacchus,  as  Jacques  Cartier  called  the  beautiful 
island  we    have    foolishly    dubbed   the    Isle    of 
Orleans;   past   the   huge    bulk   of    Tourmente, 


i 

If 


142 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


until  we  como  abreast  of  tlie  .stupen.i.nis  exhibi- 
tion  of    nature    called    the    entrance    to    the 
Sag.ienay,  and  creep  inward  through  the  gloomy 
portal  to  such  a  vision   as  mortal  man  never 
shuddered  at  elsewhere.     And  wliat   shall  we- 
say  of   the   sail    up   this   strange   and   solenm 
waterway,   wliich   the  old    mariners  verily  be- 
heved,  and  plainly  stated,  led  to   hell  -  or  of 
Tadousae,  that  oldest  town  site,  perhaps,  on  tlie 
contment;  or  of  the  Riviere  du  Loup,  where  in 
the  warm  Insl,  sunnner  days,  the  governn.ent 
of  Canada  and  gathered  aristocracy  l,old  hi.rh 
carnival,  and  politicians  play  lawn  tennis  and 
eroqnet,  while  playing  far  deeper   games  and 
for  nobler  prizes  than  these  light  ones  can  yield  ? 
Or  of  Dalhousie,  far,  far  below,  where  the  Bay 
of  Chaleur  invites   and   warns  (he  yachtsman, 
and  the  most  stTipendous  fossil  trees  on  all  the 
globe  lie  half  embedded  in  the  worn  banks  for 
the  toiu-ist  to  gaze  and  marvel  at?     Verily  is 
not  this  an  excursion  the  like   of  which   has 
never  been  taken   by  any  party  on  this  conti- 
nent ?     And  when  the  little  yacht  comes  sailing 
back  from  this  fair  cruise,  should  she  not  be 
cheered  right  roundly  for  the  demonstration  she 


YACHTING  FACIMTIES. 


143 


h^is  made  ;  a  donionstration  in  the  interest  of 
outdoor  ]ife  and  sport,  and  of  all  wlio  love  th- 
airs  of  health,  the  siglits  and  sounds  of  nature, 
and  would  fain  encoun,.re  and  advance  the 
innocent  pleasures  of  the  world  and  help  set 
the  fashion,  which,  if  followed  for  a  few  genera- 
tions hy  the  people,  will  fdl  the  land  with  fair 
women  and  manly  men  ? 

Or  if   the   party  he  of  those  who  love  the 
"  gentle  art,"  what  a  voyage  it  would  be  !     For 
IS  there   better  gronnd   for  rod   and  reel  than 
Champlain  and  the  ti-ibutaries  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence afford?     Black  bass  -  what  true  angler 
does  not   love   the   sturdy   fish  that  ^^  fights  it 
out"  to  the  bitter  end,  and  yields  the° battle 
only   with  his   life?     And    are    there   nineteen 
miles  of  coast,  from  Quebec  downward  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Restigouche  and  the  Miramichi 
that  he  does  not  sail  i)ast  the  mouth  of  streams 
that   are   the   haunt  of  salmon  and  sea   trout, 
whde  every  tumbling  torrent  on  either  shore  is 
full  of  spotted  trout,  that  jump  for  joy  to  see 
tlie  -fair  deceit"  trail  past  their  cool  retreats? 
Verily  the  true   angler   should    love   the    little 
yacht  that  can  thus  waft  him  to  such  sport,  and 


hi 


144 


J^AKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


ii '  ni 


cones  a,Kl  viConc.  wl.iol.  will  U^  th.    Z 

.'y  the   darkncs,,  „f   de,se,.,„Ii„.   ,,,.,3     \''' 

he  loves  the  W,,e,  .,.,,.  ,,.,,,, ,,,,;,,,; 

gale,  can  he  h.,.,  o„  either  sho-e  Un-  a  J 

l-Kues  an,l  .ot   he  i,.  the  ve,-,  .,„,„«  of      ! 

w.th  ducks  an,,  geese   and    hrant  ?     (,,'7 

loves  the  silent  forests,  the  hla^ed  hne  l,d  til 
untrodden  n.osses  of  ,leen   wo„  I 
Diish  1,1.      1-.  '  ''•'•  '-an  li«  not 

P  .^1     us  solitary  trail  nortlnvard  to  the  Lake 

fc>t.  John,  and  farther  vet  —  if  I,     1  ,  • 

and   fearless -to    H    ,  •'""'"''''"^ 

1.I-.  I  ''^    '■'•^""^'-y   re^Iiscoverod 

laKe  k,K,wn  to  the  Jesnits,  ,,„t  lost  to  lu„n  „ 
knowledge  for  two  hnndred  vo;,:  il 
o,w    M;.f      •     ■.,  '""  .><ais,  the  mysteri- 

ous  Mistassmm?      Surely   I,ere     i,,    ,1  • 

^'J       'I'-U,       111        (Ills      VOcf 

eg,on,strefehinge,oanfron,,heno^^^^^ 

woodsman  ean  l,n,l  the  loneliness  he  loves   and 

e  Inn-ed  ani,nals  in  whose  capture  he  ; 

;"   ''•""•^'!«   "'    '"«    ■^ki"    and    the   vi.oro 

pleasure    of    watchful,   busy   davs    and   w  •  d 

"■gl'ts.      And   all   these   pkasur;.   and   I  ny 

be.d,  can  he  had  hy  hi.  who  owns,  and  Z 


YACHTING  FACILITIKS;  I45 

knowingly,  liis  little  yacht  with  a  month's 
leisure  at  Lis  command,  from  the  blue  waters  of 
Burlington  Bay. 

But  one  does  not  need   to  sail  beyond  the 
waters  of  Lake  Champlain  itself  to  find  enjoy- 
nient  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting.     For   here 
one  can  find,  in  the  highest  degree,  experiences 
to  satisfy  both  soid  and  sense.     The  lake  is  large 
enough   to  accommodate    tlie   yachtsman    with 
a  montli's  cruising,  during  which  no  day  shall 
be  a  repetition  of  the  preceding  on(^s.     Of  all  the 
lakes  in  our  great   country,   Champlain  is,  by 
common   consent  of  those  acrpiainted  with   its 
characteristics,  the  most  beautiful.    Tbe  Iloricon 
is  certainly  the  most  charuiing  and  picturesque, 
but  it  lacks  breadth  of  view,  and  affords  the  eye 
no  grandeur  of   perspective.     It   is  pent,  con- 
fined, and  too  closely  fenced  by  the  hills  and 
mountains  wbich  rise  from  its  very  shore  line,  to 
allow  the  eye  to  gaze  widely  and    far   off.'   I 
have  camped  and  boated  on  it  much  and  often 
and  am  free  to  confess  that  after  a  few  weeks 
I  always  wearied  of  it,  and  longed  for  a  wider 
stretch    of   water    and     thosc^    perspectives    of 
vision   which,    because   of   their   dim   distance, 


146 


I>AKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


P    haps,  and  the  change,  inline  and  color,  never 
t^re  or  appear  the  .a,ne,  as  the  da,-,s  ,„u,tip7; 

Mcnphremagog   and    Winnipe.saukee  are     'oft" 
vely     jt.,  of  i„hu.d  water,  but  the,  a  Ja" 
toosnuall  and  otherwise  unfitted  for  ,achtinl 

Jo«  can  picnic,  button  cannot  journe/o:     el'' 

::;7''"-l'^*-'l----tireso,„e'asape^: 
petual  camp-meeting.     But  Li  Up  Pi,        ,-, 
width  and  length   brnn 7  ^hamplam  has 

views.  Yo. ": ;,     Tl  ^"'  ^^'^"^'^-^ 

-toil  can  sail  one  hundred  and   thirtv 
-les  .n  a  straight  line  from  north  to  sout       i  I 

bays  are  man,,  and  deep,  and  each  has  its  eW 
aete„st.cs  which  distinguish  it  from  the  othe T 

an    make  for  the  artistic  eve  a  separate  st  dy' 
and  give  to  the  lover  of  the  beantifnl  • 
a  f..o=1,  „    1     ,  oeautitul  m  nature 

a  f.esh  and  pleasurable  sensation.     Then    too 

from  wbat  other  lake  in  all  the  land  :  ^i 
b  01  such  mountain  scenery  as  from  Cha^ 
pk.n^    To  the  west  for  one  lumdred  mile.,,  loom 

capped  or  clearly  outlined  against  the  farther 

*y.     To   the   east   the   Green   Mountains,  far 

n  ugh  away  to  show  at  their  best,  lift    heir 

%s.des,verdant  to  their  summits;  while  in 
tbe  lake  :tself  float  islands  of  all  shapes     „d 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  I47 

sizes,  from  the  pillar  of  brown  rock  tufted  with 
Its  dwarf  pines,  to  Grand  Isle,  to  circle  which 
you  must  fetch  a  circuit  of  fifty  miles.     Cham- 
plam  is  no  pond,  no  narrow,  petty  lake  even 
but  a  great  body  of  long,  wide  water,  where 
wmds  can  blow  and  blue  waves  roll  a.s  on  some 
deep,  broad  arm  of  the  sea   itself.     Moreover, 
Lake  Champlain  is  historic  to  a  degree  beyond 
any   other   body   of    water   in    America.      At 
Tadousac,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  and 
at  Quebec,  the  student  senses  the  antique  as  the 
nose  inhales  the  aroma  of  flowers  blown  through 
the  air  by  noiseless  winds  from  afar.     But  be- 
fore Quebec  was  founded,  Champlain's  arque- 
bus, right  opposite  Burlington  here,  had   shed 
Iroquois   blood,   and    started    a    terrible    echo 
among  the  hills  above  Crown  Point,  which  died 
not  away  until  it  was  finally  drowned  by  the 
crash   of  Wolfe's   musketry   on   the   Plains   of 
Abraham,  one  hundred   and    fifty  years   later 
From  the  northern  end  of  this  famous  lake,  up 
the  Richelieu  came  Frontenac,  came  Montcalm 
came  Burgoyne,  came  all  those  great  martial 
movements,  whether  under  French  or  En.'lish 
banners,  which,  during  the  early  or  later  vvars, 


H!;  ' 


148 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


threatened    the   wliole    south    country,    which 
flowed  victoriously  on,  and  were   not  stopped 
until  the  Hudson  itself  was  sighted  from  the 
ruins  of  Fort  William  Henry  and   the  heights 
above   Saratoga.     Along   these   shores    on   the 
west,  Putnam  and  Rogers  scouted  and  fought. 
Here  is  Plattsburg  Bay  and  Cumberland  Head, 
where  Macdonough  fought  his   glorious   fight. 
Here,   off   Vergennes,   chased    by   the   English 
admiral,  Arnold  fired  his  ship,  whose  timbers 
can   be  seen  through  the  clear  waters  to-day. 
Here  is  Ticonderoga,  in  front  of  whose  fatal 
abattis   Abercrombie  left  two   thousand  of  his 
bravest   dead,  ana  within    whose  walls   Ethan 
Allen  demanded  its  surrender  ^^in  the  name  of 
God  and  the  Continental  Congress."     But  why 
enumerate  ?     There  is  scarcely  a  bay  or  promon- 
tory upon  the  lake  that  has  not  some  historic 
recollections  clustering  around  it,  half  of  them 
unwritten.     For  here  History  sits  holding  her 
unlettered  scroll,  waiting  for  some  Prescott  or 
Parkman  to  write  upon  them  the  marvellous 
stories  of  other  and  heroic  days,  when  English 
civilization  and   Amoi-ican   liberty  successively 
contended  for  victory  upon  the  bosom  and  along 
the  sides  of  this  lake. 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


149 


I   which 
stopped 
om  the 
heights 
on   the 
fought. 
i  Head, 
^   fight. 
English 
timbers 
to-day. 
3  fatal 
of  his 
Ethan 
.me  of 
it  why 
omon- 
istoric 
them 
g  her 
Dtt  or 
ellous 
iglish 
dvely 
along 


I  foresee  the  day  when  a  thousand  pleasure 
yachts  shall  whiten  tliese  blue  waters  with  their 
sails,  and  other  thousands  of  summer  cottages 
shall  stretch  tlieir  line  of  liealthy,   happy  life 
along    the    shores    and    speck    with    color   the 
islands  of  this  lake.     Whv  should  it  not  be  so? 
Why  should  not  the  seaboard  cities  turn  their 
eyes  this  way  for  summer  homes  and  summer 
pleasure  ?     Here  land  is  cheap.     Here  are  all 
the    conditions    for   health.      Here    is   splendid 
sporting.       Here    are    the    rarest    facilities   for 
yachting.     Here  is  scenery  unsurpassed  in  the 
world.     Here  are  excellent  food  markets  easily 
accessible.     Here   the  telephone  and  telegraph 
can  connect  every  cottager  with  his  city  busi- 
ness and  friends.     And  here  are  swift  connec- 
tions by  rail  not  only  with  the  seaboard  cities 
of  the  States,  but  with  all  that  is  attractive  in 
Canadian    scenery    and   life,  from    the    Bay  of 
Chaleur  to  Niagara.     He  who  thinks  that  Lake 
Champlain    and    its    sightly    shores     are    not 
destined  to  be   speedily  possessed  by  lovers  of 
the  beautiful    and  seekers  of    needed  rest  and 
health    thinks   meanly    of   the    average  intelli- 
gence   of    the    health-seeking,    pleasure-loving 


in 


150 


I^AKK  CIIAMPLAIN. 


American.     Fiftenn  yoar.s  ,,«o.  a,.d  ,,l,e  A.Iiron- 
clack   region   was    .almost,    miknown.      A    few 
dozens   of  sportsmen  visit,.,!   it  ,,„|,    ,nuunor. 
Ivventy  houses.   „,„stly  l,„ilt  „f  ,„.,,,  ,,,^0  all 
that  were  there.     To-day  .a  hnn.lr..,]  thonsan,! 

J'";''"'  :'^^    "'«   "•'-'•^  -'•''   year,  and   great 
I'otels  .stand  on  (he  shores  of  little  lakes,  whore 
tlien  a  man  might  eamp  in  .solitude.     Wh.at  has 
cau.sed    this  ,vondrons   ,-l,.inge  ?     Why  ,lo   the 
people  by  thon.sands  rn.sh  thitherward  lo-day? 
^nnply  becans,-    the   pc.ople   were   tohl   of   the 
«l'ort,  p!e.asnre,  and  health  they  could  find  in 
tliat   then    far-off  and    unknown   place.      The 
demand    e.xisted.     It  w.as  met  with  a  supply  • 
knowledge  was  furnished  them,  an,l  the  people 
re.spond,-d  promptly,  as  they  .alw.ays  will      That 
IS  all  that  need  be  said  to  cover  the  whole  gronnd 
There  are  thons.ands  all  over  the  country  who 
know  I  will  not  write  one  word  in  favor  of  any 
sport  or  place  in  reference  to  the  benefits  to  be 
derived  fron.  it  by  them,  if  T  am  not  intelligent     . 
and  well-inforn,ed.     They  know  that  I  do  not 
sell.nypenasa  hireling  to  praise  what  is  not 
praiseworthy.      I    l^^e    the    outdoor   life   and 
world,  the  pure  air  of  water  stretch,  and  the 


YAniTrNO  FAcrr.iTiKs. 


If)! 


niounlain  tops,  and   Mio  piiro  ilionglit  and  life 
that  come  to  tlioso  wlio  hreatli,.  it,  and   I  would 
thai  all    thoHo  who  love  tliost;  things  with  me 
may  enjoy  them  with  me.     ITcnee,  at  times,  T 
write  to  them  — known  and  iiid^novvn  to  me  hy 
name  and  faee  — to  t(;ll  them  what  I  have  found 
and  when;  I  have  found   it— health,  peace,  and 
the  new  vigor  which  comes  from  restful   days 
cand  quiet  nights,  filled  through  all  their  dewy 
hours    with    sweet    sleep  — -sleep  which    knits 
up  the  ravelled  sleave  of  care,"  and  pleasures 
which    stiuudate    the    frame    and    warm    the 
hlood  like  ancient  wine.     And  to  all  such  T  say, 
Come  to  Lake  Champlain  and  spend  the  sum- 
mer here.    You  who  love  the  water,  send  up  your 
hoats  and  yachts  or  build  them  here,  and  I  will 
warrant  you  such  pleasant  and  spirited  yacht- 
ing as  is  rarely  found.     You  who  love  the  tent 
and  social  camp-fire,  verily  is  there  not   room 
here  for  an   army    of   tents,   and  yet   not  one 
shall  see  the  other ;  you  who  need  the  rest  and 
health  found  in  pure,  cool  mountain  air,  come 
to  the  base  of  these  hills,  amid  whose  tops  God 
generates  the  ozone  of  life,  and,  floating  on  the 
level  water,  breathe  its  viiror  in 


152 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


The     extraordinary    facilities     whicli     Lake 
Champlaiu  offers  tbe  yaclitsman  in  his  enjoy- 
ment of  liis  favorite  pastime  are  not  unknown 
or  unappreciated    by  many ;    but  to  thousands 
they  are  unknown,  and  hence  this  pu])lishment. 
It  is  beyond  question  the  safest  sailing  and 
cruising   ground  that  the  amateur  yachtsman 
can  find.     Here  he  can  serve  his  apprenticeship 
to    skill    under   the    best    possible    conditions. 
First  and  foremost,  it  is  a  tideless  water.     The 
given  sailing  depth  on  reef  and  shoal,  in  chan- 
nel and    mouth   of    rivers,  is   a   constant  one. 
Adhere  the  yachtsman  can  go  in  the  morning 
lie  can  go  at  midday  and  in  the  moon-lighted 
evening;    in   calm   or   stormy  weather.     Those 
who,  as  amateurs  and  strangers,  have  sailed  the 
Atlantic  coast  or  the  lower  St.  Lawrence,  with 
its  ebb    and  flood  of  from   ten  to  fifteen  feet, 
know  how  to  appreciate  this  fact  in  its  relation' 
to  safety  and  absence  of  anxiety  on  the  part  of 
a    skipper.      Furthermore    Lake    Champlain    is 
long  and  wide  enough  for  cruising  and  racing 
both.     Its  bays  are  deep  and  its  islands  many"! 
Squalls  are  infrequent  and  cannot  approach  the 
lake  without  making  plain  revelation  of  their 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


153 


1     Lake 
1  enjoy- 
n  known 
ousands 
shment. 
ng  and 
litsman 
ticesliip 
ditions. 
■•     The 
I  clian- 
it  une. 
orning 
lighted 

Those 
ed  the 
!,  with 
I  feet, 
ilation 
art  of 
lin    is 
dicing 
nany. 
h  the 

their 


approach.  In  case  of  need,  refuge  is  easily  and 
quickly  found  behind  island  or  within  bay.  A 
fool,  it  is  said,  can  capsize  a  boat  even  behind 
a  breakwater  or  within  a  basin,  but  he  who 
allows  any  serious  accident  to  befall  his  yacht 
on  Champlain  must  be  a  genius  of  idiocy. 
There  has  never  been  an  accident  to  a  yacht 
handled  by  a  yachtsman  on  the  lake  within  my 
knowledge,  and  I  never  expect  there  will  be. 

The  yachting   interest  of    the.  lake   finds  its 
natural  centre  at  Burlington.     In  front  of  this 
city  the  lake  is  wide  and  free  of    all  obstruc- 
tions.    Here  a  triangular  race  of   thirty  miles 
can  be  sailed  with  every  yacht,  from   start  to 
finish,  under  the  gazer's  eye  —  a  very  rare  con- 
dition in  regattas.     Indeed,  we  know  no  other 
course  in   front  of  a  city  of  which  this  state- 
ment can  be  made.     On  a  pier  at  the  foot  of 
the   principal  street  of    the  city,  within  a   few 
rods  of   the   Central   Vermont    Depot    and   the 
wharf  of   the  Champlain  Transportation  Com- 
pany,  the    Lake    Champlain   Yacht   Club   has 
erected    its    large    and    commodious    clubhouse. 
No  other  clubhouse  on  the  continent  gives  to  its 
members   and  their  guests   such  a  magnificent 


154 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAW. 


Vision    of    natm-al    loneliness    and    sublimity 
The  lake  rolls  its  waves  to  its  doors,  and  the 
motion   of  its   water  gives   animation   to   the 
scene.     Prom  its  wide,  high  balconies  the  eye 
beholds  a  spectacle  of  unrinalled  loveliness  and 
majesty.     Directly  in  front  and  .st)-etcl,in<.  far 
to  right  and  left  the  lake  itself,  with  glint  of 
sun  by  day  and  gleam  of  stars  by  night,  unrolls 
Its  crystal    spaces.     To  the  left,  in  plain  view 
stands  Mohawk  Rock,  dumb  reminder  of  a  de- 
parted   race   and   inmiemorial   years.      To   the 
right  is  Bluff  Point,  to  which  geologists  go  to 
translate  the  messages  of  eternity  to  time.     In 
the  middle  of  the  lake  the  islands  of  the  Four 
Winds   ride  at  anchor.     The  nighest  point   of 
the  farther  shore  is  that  one  on  which  Cham- 
plain   shot  the  captive  i.-oquois   chief   to  save 
him  from  further  torture  by  his  Algonquin  con- 
querors.    To  the  northward,  in  clear  view,  Point 
Trembleau  thrusts  its  rocky  promontory  out  into 
the   murmuring   water,  and  with    its  beach  of 
iron  sand  gives  to  the  lake  the  greeting  of  the 
mountains.     While  in  the  west  the  Adirondack 
peaks  — a   hundred  summits  crowding  upward 
in  confusion  —  penetrate  the  clear  atmosphere 


1 


iiiii 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  155 

and  serrate  the  blue  of  tlie  farther  sky  with  tlie 
edges   of  their  dark  formation.     To   one   wlio 
admires  the  beautiful  in  nature  it  is  worth  the 
ride  of  a  thousand  miles  to  enjoy  for  a  single 
day  and  evening  the  freedom  of  the  balconies 
and  the  observation  roof   of   the  clubhouse   of 
the  Lake  Champlain  Yacht  Club  at  Burlington. 
The  club  was  founded  in  1887,  and  for  other 
uses  than  mere  aquatic  sports  demand.     It  was 
felt  by  its  founders  that  Lake  Champlain  would 
soon   attract   national  attention.     The  martial 
splendor   of    its    history   and    the    momentous 
political  significance  of  the  glorious  drama,  the 
various  and  exciting  scenes  of  which  had  all 
been   played   upon   its  waters   and   its  shores, 
would    compel    the    interest    and   presence   of 
thousands   upon   thousands.      The   yachtsman, 
canoeist,  and  angler  would  come  as  a  matter  of 
course ;  but  tliese  would  constitute  but  a  frac- 
tion of  the  multitude  that  would  visit  this  most 
lovely  and  historic  section  of  the  United  States 
—  a  section  where  nature  seems  to  have  entered 
into  rivalry  with  tradition  and  history  to  de- 
monstrate   which    might    exert    the    strongest 
influence  on  the  intelligent  and  travelling  por- 


156 


w 


'! 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


tion   of   mankin,!.     As  well  might  Lexington, 
^      Bunker  Hill,  and  Plymouth    Rock  remain  un- 
visited,  as  that  Isle  La  Motte,  Colchester  Point 
Plattsburg,    Valeour,    Crown    Point,    Ticonder- 
oga,   and    Burlington    Bay.  be     much    longer 
neglected  by  the  students  of  American  liistory 
and  the  tourists  of  the  country.     They  fully  ap- 
prehended also  the  signiticance  of  its  geograph- 
ical location -that  it  lay  at  the  centre,  from 
east  to  west,  of  that  remarkable  parallelogram 
of  country  which  begins  with  Niagara  and  the 
Thousand   Isles  and   ends  at  Bar  Harbor  and 
Mount   Desert,  and  within  which,  beside  these 
famous   localities   and  resorts  of   pleasure,  are 
grouped  also  the  Adirondacks  and  the  Chateau- 
gay  region,  the  Horicon  and  Saratoga  Springs, 
the  Green  Mountains  and  the  upper  Connecti- 
cut, the  world-advertised  White  Hills,  the  lakes 
of  Maine,  and  the  justly  celebrated  fountain  of 
health  at  Poland  Springs ;  and  connected  with 
these    famous   resorts  more  than   five  hundred 
hotels,   to  which   the   visiting  guests  annually 
pay  a  tribute  of  more  than  fifteen  millions  of 
dollars. 

The  gentlemen  who  founded  the  Lake  Cham- 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


157 


plain  Yacht  Club  saw  these  facts,  and  that  the 
lake  on  which  they  lived  was  the  natural  and 
magnificent  centre   of   this   marvellous   stretch 
of  country   in  wliich  Nature,   in    rivalrv   with 
herself,   has  crowded  every  variety  of  scenery 
and  every  charm  that  can  attract  the  tourist. 
Into  this  noted  parallelogram  of  space  she  has 
grouped     her    cataracts    and    waterfalls;    her 
gorges  and  chasms  ;  her  mountains  and  valleys ; 
her  lakes  and  rivers;  stocked  these  with  fish,  and 
the  forest  spaces  with  game ;  and  over  all,  they 
perceived,  Tradition  had  thrown   the  glamour 
of   her   charm,   and   that   upon    the    vast   and 
gloomy  front  of  prehistoric  times  History  had 
blazoned  the  vivid  record  of   glorious  transac- 
tions.    Apprehending  these  things,  they  felt  that 
the  God  who  created  this  continent  and  grouped 
its  marvels  in  such  close  connection  had,  in  this 
eastern  section  of  it,  located  the  Great  National 
Park  of  the  Republic  and  made  Lake  Champlain 
the  natural  and  appropriate  centre  and  central 
charm  of  it. 

The  club,  the  originating  and  establishing 
motive  of  whicli  sprang  from  such  a  clear  and 
noble  apprehension,  was  not  created  to  serve  a 


i 


158 


< 


LAKE   CIIAJlPLAtN. 


oca]  purpose  or  encourage  one  fashion  of  recrea- 
tion, however  „,anly  and  desirable ;  but  rather 
to  d,sse,n.nate  needed  and  qniclcening  inforn.a- 
tion  to  tlie  country,  and  to  serve  the  liighest 
purposes  of  patriotism  and  Avnerican  social  life  ' 
Hence  ,ts  membership  was  lin.ited  to  no  class 
or  locality,  nor  to  national  lines;  for  it  was  felt 
by  the  originators  of  the  club  that  the  beauty 
of  the  lake  was  of  so  high  an  order,  and  its 
instoric  associations  so  influential  and  far-reach- 
■ng,  as  judged  in  the  light  of  our  developing 
civilization,  that  in  the  truest  sense  of  it,  as  of 
no  other  body  of  water  on   the  continent,  it 
belonged  to  the  entire  continent  and  the  whole 
world. 

Its  membership  was  from  the  hoginnin-,  and 
IS  still,  cosn,opolitan.     It  is  naturally  con^posed 
of  gentlemen  of  intelligence,  public  spirit  and 
standing.     Many  of   its    members   are   n,en  of 
national  fame.     Its  annual  dues  are  too  slight 
to  be  burdensome  to  any,  but  ample,  from  the 
largeness  of  its  membership,  for  all  purposes  of 
needed  revenue.     As  regards  yachts  and  yacht- 
ing, It  has   a   fleet   of   nearly   forty  well-built 
boats,  which  is  rapidly  increasing.     Its  sailir-. 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


159 


section    is    composed    of     catboata,     sharpies, 
Burgess-modelled  sloops,  and  English   cutters; 
nearly  all  of  them  new  boats  and  of  much  larger 
size  than  is  generally  found  in  amateur  clubs. 
Its  clubhouse  is  not  the   resort  of   yachtsmen 
and  canoeists  alone,  but  even  in  a  greater  degree 
of  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  love  the  sight  of 
rolling  and  rippling  water ;  of  passing  sails  and 
steamers ;  of  green  islands  and  majestic  moun- 
tains ;  the  shady  balcony  and  cool  currents  of 
wind;  cheerful  companionship  and  restful  quiet. 
Its  rooms  and  wide  verandas  are  opened  and 
maintained  by  the  members  as  a  favorite  noon- 
day and  evening  resort,  a  quiet,  })eaceful  loung- 
ing-place  and  restful   refuge   from   office   rush 
and  noisy  hotel  for  themselves  and  their  guests. 
A  more  delightful  one  miglit  not  be  imagined. 

Hospitality  is  the  characteristic  of  American 
club  life,  and  especially  of  yachting-club  life, 
and  the  officers  and  local  members  of  this  club 
are  not  behind  their  brother  clubmen  in  the 
exercise  of  this  most  ancient  and  honorable  of 
virtues.  Not  only  do  all  visiting  yachtsmen, 
but  all  travellers  and  tourists  who  visit  this  re- 
markable region,  receive  every  possible  courtesy 


160 


LAKE  CllAMl'LAIN. 


»i 


til 


ii 


at  their  hands.  The  club  might  almost  be 
railed  a  liureau  of  Infonnation  i„  the  interest 
of  visitors,  so  willing  are  its  local  ofliccrs  and 
members  to  assist  the  transient  guest  of  the 
city  with  all  needed  knowledge. 

I  publish  in  this  connection  the  list  of  the 
oSoers  of  the  club,  that  all  who  may  wish  to 
correspond    with    them    may    know   whom    to 
address.     It  is- their  desire,  as  it  is  of  the  entire 
body  of  the   member.ship  of  the  club,  that  it 
should  receive  additions  from  ..very  State  of  the 
Union  and  every  Provhiee  of  Canada ;  and  they 
do,  through  my  words,  make  public  this  desire 
and  cordially  invite  all  who  inlend  to  vi.sit  Lake 
Champlaiu  or  would  assist  them   in    ren.lerin.^ 
services  to  tho.se  who  do  visit  it.  to  unite  them" 
selves  to  the  club,  that  tliey  and  their  friends 
may  enjoy   its   privileges   and   a.ssist    th,-m    in 
tlieir  eft'orts  to  serve  the  public  with  courteous 
assistance  and  titling  hospitality. 

OFFICERS    OF   THE    CLUB. 

Commodore,  W.  Seward  Webb;  vicc-commo. 
dore,  W.  A.  Crombie ;  jjresident,  J.  Gregory 
Smith  ;  Jirst  viec-presidait,  Elias  Lyman ;  sccorcd 


YACIITIN(J  FACILITIES. 


161 


nost  be 
interest 
irs  and 
of   the 

of  the 
nsli  to 
Jin    to 
entire 
hat   it 
of  the 
[1  tliey 
desire, 
'  Lake 
lering 
tliem- 
I'iends 
ni    in 
•teous 


'gory 


vice-president,   H.    LeGrand  Cannon ;   secretary, 
Joseph  Auld  ;  treasurer,  Horatio  Ilickok  ;  meas- 
urer,   A.    C.    Tiittle ;    Jleet     captain,    Horatio 
Looniis;   Jleet   suryeon,   A.    P.    Grinnell,    M.D. 
Exemtu)e  Comynlttee :    Horatio  Hickok,  W.  H. 
H.  Murray,  A.  C.  Tattle,  F.  W.  Smith,  D.  W. 
Robinson,   C.    F.    Carter,  N.    F.  Merrill,    Elias 
Lyman,  R.  G.   Severson,  Joseph   Auld,  Alvaro 
Adsit,  J.   A.  Averill,  Jacob  G.  Sanders,  A.  C. 
Wbiting,  H.  M.  Phelps,  C.  A.   Murray,  F.  E. 
Smith,    E.  C.   Smith,  S.  W.  Cuinmings,  J.   G. 
Hindes,  H.  H.  Noble,  Walter  C.  Witherbee,  A. 
G.  Whittemore,  W.   A.  Crombie,  Theodore   S. 
Peck,  IL  J.  Brookes,  H.  LeGrand  Cannon,  F.  J. 
Hawley,  J.  B.  Tresidder,  L.  C.  Grant,  T.  P.  W. 
Rogers,  Sanmel    Keyser.     Regatta    Committee: 
L.  C.  Grant,  Chester  Griswold,  A.  C.  Whitino-, 
Horace  J.  Brookes,  M.  B.  Adams.     House  Com- 
mittee:  H.  LeGrand  Cannon,  W.  A.  Crombie, 
T.    P.    W.    Rogers.     ' Memhershij)    Committee: 
Horatio  Hickok,  Elias  Lyman,  A.  C.  Whiting, 
F.  W.  Smith,  W.  H.  H.  Murray.     Committee  on 
Printing :  Horatio  Hickok,  Joseph  Auld,  A.  G. 
Whittemore. 


162 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


11 


SAILING    DIRFXJTIONS. 


FROM    niTIJLINCrroN    (}()ING    NOUTII. 

Opposite  Bin-liiigtoii  arc  no  o])striictions  that 
are  not  visible  in  dayliirht. 

Juniper  Mand  (liol,ilH,nso).  —  To  the  sonth 
is  Juniper  Reof  (buojc(l);  eiglit  f(M^t  on  reef  at 
low  water;  hnoy  on  northwest 
close  to  it;  to  the  south  go  one-third  of  a  mil 


corner;  can  iro 


no  nearer  to  1 


)uoy. 


Shclhimi  /A?//. —  Two  miles  of  safe  sailing; 
free  of  reefs.  North  of  thu  mouth  of  this  hay, 
near  the  centre  of  the  entrance,  a  half-mile  to 
the  north,  is  Proctor's  Reef  ;  luoy  on  northwest 
corner.  Can  sail  near  the  buoy,  but  give  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  margin  if  you  go  to  the  south 
of  it. 

Juniper  rshindReef.  —  Ummmg  out  toward 
Mohawk  Rock  a,  third  of  a  mile;  advise  not 
coasting  too  near  the  island  unless  with  pilot. 


YACHTING   FACILITIKS. 


1(13 


Four  Brothers. — Soutlivvest  from  Burlington, 
four  miles  distance.  Give  these  a  (quarter  of  a 
mile  berth  to  the  south,  east,  and  west ;  to  the 
north  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  for  in  that 
dire-'ticm  there  are  three  rec^fs,  called  "Three 
Bunches"  (not  huof/cil).  .These  reefs  have  at 
least  six  fe(^t  of  water  on  them.  Yachts  can 
land  safely  on  th(^  Brothers  in  fjuiet  weather. 
These  islands  are  jjleasnut  ones  to  visit,  and 
from  them  a  su[)erl)  view  of  the  lake  can  be 
had  in  all  directions. 

West  by  north,  almost  directly  opposite 
Burlington,  is  Willsborough  Point,  and  west  of 
the  point  is  the  entrance  to  Willsborough  Bay. 
This  bay  is  about  five  miles  in  depth.  At  the 
head  stands  the  village  of  Willsborough.  The 
entrance  is  free  from  all  obstructions  ;  large 
yachts  can  enter  and  sail  the  bay  to  its  head 
safely.  This  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  very 
much  land-locked  and  secluded,  so  that  it  in 
fact  seems  Tke  a  separate  lake. 

Fort  DoiujUiH  is  north  of  Willsborough  Bay 
some  three  and  a  half  miles,  and  has  a  dock  at 
which  yachts  could  be  moored  in  safety. 

Schut/lers  Island  (Isle  (vhapon.  by  the  French) 


I 


Q, 


'^. 


164 


F  )| 


I.AKE  C'lIA.MPl.AIN. 


l\ 


is  to  the  northeast,  and  water  is  of  good  denti, 
between  it  and  the  mainland. 

fickcykr's   Beef  is   to   the   southeast   of  the 
island,  some  mile  and  a  quarter.     It  is  buoyed 
on  the  east  side.     In  coasting  give  a  third  of  a 
mile  to  this  reef.     Alwut  six  feet  of  water  is 
on  It,  .so  that  to  small  yachls  no  danger  mav  be 
apprehet.ded  in  good  weather  sailing  nearer 
Jerris  Hock  is  northeast  of  Schuyler's  Island 
about   one   and   a   half   miles.     It   is   buoyed- 
buoy  is  at  the  centre.     A  yacht  can  sail  within' 
a  hundred  feet  of  it  safely. 

I'olnt  Trcmbknu  is  a  bold,  rocky  projection 
northwest  of  Schuyler's  Island,  on  mainland, 
and  has  good  depth  of  water  in  front  of  it. 

Port  Kent,  one  mile  to  the  north,  has  a  good 
moormg  basin  at  the  dock.     The  bay  between 
the   dock   and   Point    Trembleau   is   not   good 
anchonng-ground  ;    plenty  of  water,  but    hard 
bottom.     Of  course,  with  a  northwest  or  south 
wind,  yachts  would  find  excellent  refuo-e  there 
but  should  the  wind  shift  to  the  east  or  north- 
east or  southeast,  anchors  would  not  hold,  and 
to  escape  going  ashore  a  yacht  would  have  to 
get   under  way.     At  Port   Douglas,  or,  better 


YACHTING   FACILITIES. 


165 


yet,  in  Willsboroiigli  Bay,  in  sucli  an  event,  a 
yacht  could  find  the  best  of  refuge ;  or,  going 
behind  Valcour  Island,  in  case  the  wind  was 
from  the  east  or  southeast,  a  yacht  would  find 
the  safest  of  accommodation. 

North  of  Port  Kent,  some  two  miles,  is  a 
bank  of  sand  (buoyed) ;  small  yachts  can  go 
inside  of  it,  but  it  is  safer  to  stand  outside  of  it. 

All  Sahh  Point  is  three  miles  and  more  to 
the  north  of  Port  Kent.  Southeast  of  the 
point,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore,  is  a 
buoy ;  can  sail  near  it  safely,  but  if  the  wind  is 
strong  from  north  or  east  better  stand  out  a 
little. 

Sailing  north  from  Au  Sable  Point,  lay  your 
course  centrally  between  Valcour  Island .  and 
mainland  until  you  come  to  the  northwest 
point  of  the  island,  when  you  will  find  —  two- 
thirds  the  distance  from  the  island  to  main 
shore  —  a  reef  (buoyed),  with  five  feet  of  water 
on  it.     Water  is  of  good  depth  on  either  side. 

Bhiff  Point  is  a  projection  of  mainland 
immediately  to  the  north,  and  is  now  made  a 
commanding  object  by  the  magnificent  hotel 
recently  built  upon  it. 


^^^  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 

Crah  Island.  -  Two  miles  from  north  end 
of  Va  cour  Island,  due  north,  is  Crab  Island. 
Give  th,s  island  a  berth  of  nearly  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  all  round  it. 

Coming   back  to  Valcour  Island,  we  would 
say,  — 

Garden  Island  is  to  the  south  of  Valcour  a 
half  a  mile,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  east  of 
Garden  Island  is  Garden  Island  Led^e  This 
has  eight  feet  of  water ;  safe  sailing  Ll  round 
00th  island  and  ledge. 

On  the  east  side"  of  Valcour  Island,  about  a 
thn-d  of  the  distance  from  the  southern  end,  is 
Smuggler's   Cove.     This   is   a   small   recess   of 
water  with  a  narrow  entrance.     There  is  from 
five  to  six  feet  of  water  in  this  cove.-    It  is  a 
pretty,  secluded  spot  to  lunch  or  can.p  i„,  and 
a  small  yacht  would   find  it  a  very  .safe   and 
pleasant   moormg-ground.      There    is   a    little 
spnng  of  water  here,  very  agreeable,  and  handy 
tor  picknickers. 

SJoop  Cove  is  located  half-way  of  the  island 
of  Valcour,  on  the  east  side.  It  has  only  two  or 
three  feet  of  water  in  it,  and  hence  is  not  safe 
to  enter  unless  in  case  of  small,  light-draft 
boats  -nd  still  weather. 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


167 


North  of  Sloop  Cove,  about  a  mile  distant,  is 
a  rock  separated  by  a  short  distance  from  main 
shore.  We  call  attention  to  this  rock  because 
to  the  north  of  it,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  is 
a  reef  (not  buoyed).  On  it  is  five  and  a  half 
feet  of  water.  This  reef  is  small  in  extent. 
With  the  exception  of  this  unbiioyed  reef,  the 
entire  east  side  of  Valcour  Island  can  be  coasted 
by  yachts  of  good  size  safely. 

From  Valcour  Island  to  Plattsburg  is 
unobstructed  sailing  (excepting  Crab  Island, 
previously  mentioned).  The  entrance  to  Platts- 
burg  Harbor,  viz.,  inside  the  breakwater,  is 
plain  sailing,  and  the  yachtsman  needs  no 
directions  from  me. 

Cumberland  Bay,  lying  between  Plattsburg 
and  Cumberland  Head,  is  not  adapted  for 
yachts  on  the  western  half  of  it.  The  eastern 
half  gives  good  water.  Nevertheless,  in  case  of 
a  stiff  southerly  wind  I  would  not  advise  sailing 
in  this  bay.  Better  stand  out  to  the  south  of 
Cumberland  Head,  where  the  courses  are  free 
of  all  obstruction. 

It   is   well   for  skippers  of   small  yachts  to 
bear  in  mind  that  in  case  of  strong  southerly 


168 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


iU 


winds  tl,e  stretch  soutli   of  Cumberland  Head 
for  ten  miles  is  the  rougliest  on  the  lake.     Such 
a   wind   blows    with    unobstructed    sweep    for 
nearly  thirty  miles  down  the  lake.     Salt-water 
yachtsmen  are  inclined  to  underrate  the  capa- 
city of  inland  water  to  test  the  seagoing  ability 
of  a  craft  or  the  skill  of  a  skipper,  but\ve  who 
sail  Champlain— and  some  of  us  were  born  on 
the   coast  and  know  what  ^^ rough  water"   is  — 
can  testify  that  a  skipper  who  beats  his  boat  up 
the  lake  from    Plattsburg  to    Burlington  witli 
even  half  a  gale  blowing  from  the  south  will 
have  a  wet  boat  and  wet  sails  too  before  he  has 
passed  Colchester  Reef.     We,  therefore,  regard- 
mg  safety  as  the  first  thing  to  consider  in  pleas- 
ure yachcs,  advise  all  small  yachts  to  be  careful 
of    this  stretch    of   water  in    strong   southerlv 
winds. 

Gravelly  Point  is  north  of  Cumberland  Head 
some  two  miles.  It  is  easily  recognized  by  the 
gravelly  shale  that  composes  the  sliore.  We 
call  attention  to  it  because  from  all  southerly 
and  western  and  northwest  wind,  it  makes  a 
very  fine  anchorage  ground.  The  bottom  is  a 
good  holding  one,  and  yachts  can  lie  close  in 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


169 


within  two  hundred  feet  of  the  beach  in  safety. 
But  in  case  the  wind  shifts  to  the  east  or  north 
or  northeast,  the  skipper  nuist  move  out.  In 
this  case  lie  finds  a  safe  and  easy  run  round 
Cumberland  Head  to  Plattsburg. 

From  Gravelly  Point  coasting  north  six  miles 
brings  you  to  the  Light  Tmver  (Point  au  Roche), 
and  to  it  is  clean  sailing  with  good  water.  Just 
opposite  the  Light  (half  a  mile)  is  Point  au 
Roche  Reef,  in  which  is  seven  feet  of  water  with 
good  depth  on  either  side. 

Me  La  Motte  is  north  of  Point  au  Roche 
Light  some  two  miles.  Take  the  west  side  and 
you  will  find  good  water  without  obstruction 
until  you  come  to  the  north  end  of  the  island, 
where  you  nuist  bear  in  mind 

Point  au  Fer.  —  T\ih  is  one  mile  to  the  north 
of  the  Light  Tower,  on  the  north  end  of  the 
island.  It  is  nearly  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
long,  and  should  be  given  a  good  margin.  But 
there  is  nearly  a  mile  width  of  good  sailing 
water  between  it  and  the  island,  so  no  skipper 
needs  feel  troubled. 

After  passing  this  reef,  the  course  lies  open 
to  you  to  Rouses  Point.     You  can  sail  half  a 


170 


mil( 


LAKE   C'llAMPLAIN. 


or  so  from  tlio  slioi-oMiul  IVol  that  you  have 


goodly  space  of  good 


Kouso's  Point  is  good  and 
ornniost  one  of  tlie  lak 

We  will  now  retnrn  to  Burlingt 


water  on  either  hand.     At 


loragi!  and  the  nortli- 


on. 


^"^/n/hxm  Han  is  .'i^out  three  miles  from  the 
clnbhouse,  and  is  ahont  two   mihvs  deep.     It  is 
h^^o   of  shoals   and    re(>rs    and    is    good    sailing 
gronnd.      Cood-sized    vaehts   can    be    sailed   to 
within  one-fonrth  of  a,  mile  of  its  end  without 
danger.     Jf  the  wind  is  from  the  northwest  and 
strong,  the  wat(>r  in  the  hay  is  qnite  rough,  and 
in  heating  haek  a  small  sailboat  should  be  care- 
fully handled. 

Saxfons  LWf  is  about  one  and  a  Iialf  miles 
south  of  Shelburn  Point,  and  half  a,  mile  from 
shor(\  Tt  is  buoyed  on  west  s'uh.  There  is 
eight  ivot  of  water  on  the  one  part  of  it  and 
cdeven  feet  on  the  other.  It  is  safe  to  go  within 
forty  rods  on  either  side  of  it. 

Qihdrr  >'y///V//'.s'  Rcrf  is  opposite  the  point  of 
that  name  and  some  one  aiul  a,  half  miles  from 
Saxton's  Keef,  luvaring  soutJi  by  west  from  it. 
It  is  abt)ut  three-fourths  of  n  mile  from  the 
shore,  and  has  seven  feet  of  water  on  it.     It  is 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


171 


buoyed  and  is  of  small  extent.     It  is  safe  to  go 
nigh  to  it. 

Opposite  Quaker  Smith's  Reef  is  the  Bluff, 
and  from  said  bhilf  there  stretches  out  to 
the  west  a  slioal  for  nearly  one-fourth  of  a 
mile.  Tlie  point  of  the  shoal  has  oidy  five  and  a 
hall'  feet  in  it,  and  should  therefore  he  borne  in 
irn'nd  by  cruising  pai'ties,  especially  if  they  are 
making  for 

Qiid^'cr  Smith's  /hi/.—T\m  bay  is  back  of 
the  point  of  the  same  name,  and  makes  excel- 
lent anchorage  ground  for  yachts  of  any  size, 
as  it  has  depth  of  water  from  ten  to  twenty 
feet  and  good  Ijottom.  It  is  also  perfectly  pro- 
tected from  all  winds,  and  has  a  wide,  easy 
entrance.  In  entering  tliis  bay  bear  in  mind 
that  to  the  south  and  east  some  one-fourth  of  a 
mile  is  a  reef  with  only  some  live  and  six  feet 
of  water  on  it. 

This  bay  is  the  harbor  where  W.  S.  Webb, 
Commodore  of  the  Champlain  Yacht  Club,  moors 
his  several  yachts.  And  during  the  summer 
the  reef  alluded  to  is  buoyed  by  his  care;  but 
the  government  has  no  buoy  on  it. 

From  Quaker  Smith's  Pninf  to  ^7"^-)  '""V--^ 


f? 


:-.-B!Ejsasij-^^ir-.-- 


I 


172 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


opposite  Essex,  there  are  no  obstructions  of  any 
sort. 

About  five  miles  soutli  of  Sloop  Island  some 
mile  and  more  you  come  to  Cedar  Beach,  a 
favorite  resort  of  campers  and  picnickers. 

Pickett  Island,  Cedar  Island,  and  Gardiner 
Island,  lie  south  of  Cedar  Beach,  between  it  and 
Thompson's  Point.  East  of  Gardiner  Island, 
which  is  the  largest  of  the  three,  is  good 
anchorage  for  all  winds,  and  there  is  good  depth 
of  water  to  get  in  and  out  of  this  fine  harbor, 
so  that  no  one  need  fear  to  push  for  it  if  in  any 
stress. 

Thompso7is  Point  is  opposite  Cloven  Rock, 
and  is  a  resort  of  many  campers  and  cottagers. 
The  waters  around  it  are  well  stocked  with  fish, 
and  anglers  find  much  excellent  sport  here- 
abouts. Perhaps  there  is  no  place  on  the  lake 
which  is  more  liked  by  those  who  are  familiar 
with  the  beai'ty  and  sporting  facilities  of  this 
locality  than  Thompson's  Point  and  its  adjoin- 
ing waters. 

Otter  Creek  is  some  three  miles  south  of 
Thompson's  Point.  This  creek  or  river,  for  in 
all  rights  it  is  a  river,  being  the  longest  one  in 


YACHTING  FACILITIES.  173 

Vermont,  and  navigable  to  ships  of  good  size  as 
far  np  as  the  Falls  at  Vergennes,  eight  miles, 
is  noted  in  history.     Here  Arnold,  when  pressed 
by  the  pursuing  British  fleet,  ran  his  flagship 
ashore  and  set  her  on  fire,  escaping  with  his  crew 
overland  to  Crown  Point.     Fort  Cassin  stands 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river  and  did  good  service 
m   its   day.     It   was   in   this   river   that  Mac- 
donough   built   and    fitted   out   his   fleet   with 
which  he  won  his  noted  victory  of  Plattsburg. 
But  this  river  is  not  an  easy  one  for  a  stranger 
to  enter  from  the  lake,  and  I  would  not  advist  a 
yachtsman  to  attempt  it  without  a  local  pilot  or 
in   clear  and   quiet  weather,   when    he    might 
"feel "  his  way  safely  in. 

South  of  this  point  I  need  give  no  direction, 
as  the  lake  is  open  and  clear  of  all  dangerous 
places  to  Ticonderoga.  It  is,  in  fact,  ,.  contin- 
uous harbor,  and  all  a  skipper  has  to  do  is  "  not 
to  sail  into  the  fences,"  as  the  local  saying  is. 

THE    WEST    SHORE,    SAILING  NORTH. 

We  will  now  begin  to  cruise  northward. 
^^lit   Eock,   once   called,   far    more    eupho- 
niously. Cloven  Rock,  is  a  curiosity,  and  savants 


174 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


differ  as  to  its  origin.  Historically  it  has  been 
mistaken  by  many  writers  for  3fohaivk  Bock, 
which  stands  in  Burlington  Bay.  Historically 
there  is  no  significance  to  Cloven  Rock  what- 
ever, and  it  is  interesting  only  as  a  curious 
freak  of  nature. 

Whalons  Bay  is  immediately  north  of  it,  and 
is  good  for  all  winds  save  northerly  ones. 
From  these  Gardiner  Island,  right  opposite,  is 
excellent  mooring-ground. 

Cruising  northward,  you  come  to  Essex,  where 
ample  accommodation  for  yachts  and  yachts- 
men will  be  found. 

Bouquet    Biver    lies    north   of    Essex   some 
three   miles.     Here    a   sandbar   stretches  some 
one-half  mile  from  its  mouth.     A  yacht  draw- 
ing   six    feet    should    give   a    good    half-mile 
from  the  shore  to  be  safe.     Indeed,  in  cruising, 
no  skipper  should  run  in  nearer  than  this  dis- 
tance between  Cloven  Rock  and  Willsborough 
Point,  unless  slowly  feeling  his  way  in  on  some 
quiet  day.     But,  with  this  caution,  a  yacht  has 
a  free  run  from  Cloven  Rock  until  it  comes  to 
the  Four  Brothers,  opposite  Burlington,  which 
we  have  already  describee}. 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


175 


SAILING   NORTH    FROM    BURLINGTON   ON   THE 
EAST    SIDE    OF    THE    LAKE. 

Apple-Tree  Shoals  are  two  and  one-fourth 
miles  from  the  ckibhouse,  nortliwest,  and  are 
southeast  from  Apple-Trec  Point,  about  three- 
fourths  of  a  mile.  Buoy  on  nortliwest  corner. 
They  stretcli  southeast  from  the  buoy  some 
forty  rods.     Depth  of  water  five  and  a  half  feet. 

Apple-Tree  Point  should  be  allowed  one-eighth 
of  a  mile. 

Wtjiooski  Elver   enters   the   lake   some  two 
miles   north   of  Apple-Tree   Point.      No  yacht 
without  pilot  should  seek  to  enter,  I  mean  even 
small  yachts,  because  of  a  wide  deposit  of  sand 
that  has  been  delivered  into  the  lake  from  the 
river,  and  makes  it  inaccessible.     In  fact,  this 
deposit  of  sand  extends  from   Apple-Tree  Point 
clean  round  to  Colchester  Point,  and  northward 
from  Colchester  Point  two   and   a  half    miles 
farther.     In  cruising,  no  yacht  should  be  carried 
within  a  line  drawn  from  Apple-Tree  Point  to 
Colchester  Point.     It  should   be  also  borne  in 
mind,  in  case  of  a  southerly  wind,  that  this  is  a 
bad  lee  shore  and  should  be  avoided. 


i 


176 


LAKK  CIIAMPLAIN. 


,t; 


Good  fishing  h  found  off  the  mouth  of  and 
in  Wmooski  River.     Tliis  river  i.s  a  deliglitful 
one  to  boat  on  up  to  the  rapids  near  Winooski 
village.     There  i.s  no  good  reason  to  doul)t  that 
Champlain  in  his  first  exploration  of  tlie  lake 
entered  the  Winooski  and  visited  the  falls ;  and 
It  was  doubtle.ss  from  Lone  Rock  Point  or  Apple- 
Tree  Point  that  his  red  associates  pointed  out  to 
hnn  the  terrible  Mohawk  Rock,  beyond  which 
they  must  not  go,  unless  with  the  utmost  cau- 
tion and  prepared  for  attack. 

In  cruising  from  Burlington  northward  a 
yacht  should,  from  Aj,plo-Tree  Point,  lay  its 
course  to  the  west  of  Colchester  Shoals  until  it 
commands  a  view  of  Cumberland  Head.  These 
shoals  are  buoyed  on  the  northern  point  of  them 
and  extend  from  the  buoy  about  one-half  mile 
to  the  .south  and  east  of  it.  At  low '  water 
these  shoals  are  visible,  but  at  high  water  they 
are  covered. 

'  ^^'f  »'«  "«  terms  l.igh  and  Imv  water  not  in  reference  to  anv 

water  ,n  the  lake  is  higl.or  „y  s„„,e  si.  or  sjn  feet  til  lu,Z 
.n  the  season.    The  depth  of  water  as  .narked  l.y  us  in  th  s   no  es 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


177 


Colchester  Beef  is  northeast  of  the  Shoals 
about  three-fourths  of  a  mile.  It  is  a  columnar 
rock  of  imposing  height,  and  on  its  crest  is  a 
lighthouse.  In  pleasant  or  calm  weather  the 
rock  can  be  approached  safely  by  bmall  boats. 
By  an  iron  idder  visitors  can  reach  the  keeper's 
lodge,  and  from  it  a  lovely  view  of  the  lake  is 
obtainable. 

Hog-Bach  Reef  m  half  a  mile  to  the  north- 
east of  the  Light  Station.  It  is  buoyed.  The 
buoy  is  on  the  northwest  corner.  The  reef  is 
not  of  large  extent,  and  nearly  if  not  quite  visi- 
ble at  low  water. 

Hog-Back  Island  is  north  of  this  reef  one- 
fourth  of  a  mile,  and  east  of  this,  stretching  to 
the  north  two  and  a  fourth  miles,  is  the  projec- 
tion of  Sandy  Shoals,  before  alluded  to. 

We  advise  that  in  cruising  all  yachts  keep  to 
the  west  of  Colchester  Reef,  unless  under  pilot- 
age. Although  there  is  a  good  passage  between 
these  several  obstructions  above  mentioned  to 
one  who  knows  the  waters,  nevertheless,  as 
there  is  little  distance  saved,  it  is  better  to 
stand  out  to  the  west  of  them  all. 

Jones    Rock    is   north   of    Colchester   Light 


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LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


some  two  miles,  due  north.     It  is  not  buoyed, 
and  has  six  feet  of  water  on  it. 

Stam  Island  Ledge  is  one-half  a  mile  north 
of  this  with  five  feet  of  water  on  it.     No  buoy. 
Stave  Island  is  one-half  mile  north  of  this. 
Carlton  Prize  is  three-fourths  of  a  mile  north. 
Due   north   of   Stave  Island   and  northwest  of 
this,  one-fourth  of  a  mile,  is  Providence  Islmid. 
Between  Stave  Island  and  Providence  Island 
is  good  depth  of  water,  and  no  obstructions  ex- 
cept Carlton's  Prize  (visible). 

East  of  Providence   Island  and  near  to  it  is 
good  anchorage  against  all  winds. 

MalMs  Bay  is  a  lovely  bit  of  water,  and  its 
shores  are  much  frequented  and  admired.     But 
off   the    entrance    are    the    several    reefs    and 
shoals  above  mentioned,  making   it  difficult  of 
access  to  a  stranger.      We  advise  yachtsmen 
who  desire  to  visit  this  beautiful  section  of  the 
lake  to  take  a  pilot  at  Burlington  for  the  cruise. 
The  officers  and  local   members   of    the   Lake 
Champlain  Yacht  Club  are  always  glad  to  assist 
visiting  yachtsmen  in  every  way,  and  good  local 
pilots  will  be  commended  to  them  on  applica- 
tioi). 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


179 


Providence  Island  is  not  only  a  good  anchor- 
age ground  if  caught  in  a  squall  or  storm,  but 
is  provided  with  a  hotel,  and  visitors  will  find 
not  only  accommodation  as  regular  guests,  but 
also  supplies  such  as  are  needed  on  a  cruise  or  in 
camp. 

The  outlet  from  the  moorings  at  Providence 
Island  going  northward  is  a  good  one  although 
not  wide,  and  through  it  a  yacht  can  pass  to  the 
north  into  wide  waters  free  of  all  obstructions 
until  it  comes  to 

Sister  Island  Reef,  one-fourth  of  a  mile 
southeast  of  the  South  Sister  Island.  This  reef 
is  buoyed  at  the  west  end,  is  not  large,  and  has 
good  water  on  all  sides. 

South  Sister  Island  is  not  to  be  approached 
either  on  the  north  or  south  of  it  very  closely ; 
and  the  same  can  be  said  of 

North  Sister  Island,  southeast  of  which  are 
two  bunches  of  rock  (not  buoyed),  so  that,  in 
fact,  a  skipper  should  not  sail  either  near  to  or 
between  these  islands  unless  perfectly  familiar 
\nth.  the  ground.  If  he  is  cruising  to  the  north 
of  the  Gut,  he  should  keep  to  the  west  of  these 
islands,  where  he  will  find  open  water  to  Isle  La 


180 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


'^!llii 


wtm  I 


Motte,  witl,  the  exception  of   Point  au  Roche 
Reef,  previously  mentioned.     But  if  he  is  bound 
for  St.  Albans  Bay,  or  Maquam  Bay,  or  wishes  to 
cruise  down  the  east  side  of  North  Hero  and 
must  pass  through  the  Gut,  he  should  sail  a 
course  intermediate  between  Sister  Islands  and 
the  shore  of  South  Hero,  which  will  bring  him 
safely  to  the  entrance  of  the  Gut  off  Lono-  Point 
From  this  point   I   decline  to  give  "farther 
direction,  not  wishing  to  take  the  responsibility. 
The. passage  of  the   Gut   from  Long  Point  to 
Knight's  Point  is  a  blind  and  crooked  one  and 
not  to  be  attempted  by  a  skipper  unless  familiar 
with  the  ground.     In  case  of  fair  weather,  licht 
wind,  and  a  small  yacht,  no  doubt  the  passage 
might  be  threaded  safely;  but  in  case  of  a  larger 
yacht  or  strong  breeze  or  of  a  squall  the  pass- 
age, under  any  circumstances,  is  not  an  easy  one 
to  make,  and  unless  under  good  pilotage  should 
never  be  attempted.     For  this  northern  cruise 
which  in  many  respects  is  by  far  the  most  inter- 
esting one  that  the  lake  presents,  all  visiting 
yachtsmen  would  do  well  to  put  themselves  in 
communication  with  the  officers  of  the  Cham- 
plain  Yacht  Club  at  Burlington,  and  through 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


181 


them  obtain  a  competent  pilot.  This  is  the  wise 
and  safe  course  to  pursue,  and  we  earnestly  com- 
mend it  to  all  who  sail  Lake  Champlain. 

TJie  Middle  Reef —  sailors  know  it  as  Bull 
Keef  —  is  north  of  Sister  Islands  half  a  mile,  and 
consists  of  two  parts,  South  and  North  Bunch. 
There  is  good  (narrow)  water  between  them  as 
there  is  good  water  between  them  and  the  North 
Hero  shore,  but  the  passage  is  narrow,  and  be- 
tween the  North  Reef  and  North  Hero  shore  not 
over  one-fourth  of  a  mile.  In  cruising  north 
the  course  should  be  laid  to  the  west  of  these 
islands  and  reefs.  By  doinj^f  this  the  run  is 
made  without  obstructions  from  Providence 
Island  to  the  south  end  of  Isle  La  Motte,  off  the 
south  end  of  which  is 

HilTs  Island,  between  which  and  the  shore 
is  a  small  reef  with  only  three  feet  of  water, 
nearly  midway  between  the  island  and  Isle  La 
Motte. 

To  the  north  of  east,  one-fourth  of  a  mile 
from  it,  is  a  small  reef  with  seven  and  a  half  feet 
on  it,  and  to  the  southeast  of  Hill's  Island  half 
a  mile  distant  is  a  reef  (buoyed)  with  five  feet 
on  it. 


LAKK  CIIAMPLAIN. 

Towns  Reef  is  abont  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
Irom  H,ll-s  I«la„d,  bearii.g  nearly  .southeast  (not 
buoyed  by  government,  a  j.rivate  buoy  may  be 
on   It  m  sununer).     It  i.,  some  one-fourtl.  of  a 
>»>le  fron,  the  shore  of  North  Hero  and  about 
tliree-fourths  of  a  mile  southwest  of  Pelot's  Point 
irone-Shoe  Shoal  is  equidistant  between  I.le 
i^a  Motte  and  the  entrance  to  Missisquoi  Bay. 
Jt  IS  a  long,  n.'irrow  shoal,    stretching   nearly 
north  and  south,  about  a  mile  long.     It  is  not 
huoycd  nor  is  it  visible  unless  in  exceptional  cir- 
cumstauces  and  to  good  eyes.     But  by  ren.em- 
tenng  that  it  lies  nearly  equidistant  between  the 
two  shores,  and  that  good  water  is  on  either  side 
of  It,  It  is  not  difficult  to  pass. 

To  the  north  of  this  is  open  water  until  you 
come  to 

Rey,u>lch  Point,  where  is  the  swinging  bridge 
which  IS  opened  for  the  passage  of  crafts.  From 
this  pomt  lay  your  course  due  north,  bearing 
perhaps  a  trifle  to  the  west  for  the  dock  at 
Rouse's  Point,  to  which  point  we  conducted  you 
safely  in  our  cruise  down  the  western  shore  of 
the  lake;  and  where,  with  flag  honors,  we  leave 

you. 


YACHTING  FACILITIES. 


183 


CRUISING    EAST   OF   NORTH   HERO. 

Felofs   Point  is  the  entrance  to    Missisquoi 
Bav  from  tlie  western  side  of  North  Hero,  and 
is    opposite    the    southern    portion    of    Isle    La 
Motte.    The  entrance  to  the  Alburgli  Passage  to 
the  Bag,  as  it  is  called,  is  between  Pelot's  Point 
and  Alburgh  Point  opposite,  to  the  north,  and  is 
not  difficult.     There  is  a  shoal  (buoy  on   the 
south  end)  nearly  equidistant  between   the  two 
points,  on  which  is  seven  feet  of  water.     If  the 
yacht  draws  more  water  than  this,  or  over  five 
feet,  the  course  should  be  laid  between  the  buoy 
and  Pelot's  Point  to  the  south  of  it,  a  passage  of 
good  water  about  one-fourth  of  a  mile  in  width. 
Pelot's  Bay  lies  within  the  mouth  of  the  pass- 
age to  the  south,  and  is  the  mooring-ground  of 
Mr.    Saunders   of   Albany,    N.  Y.,   who   has  a 
line  summer  camp  on  Pelot's  Point,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  bay.    In  this  bay  is  excellent  mooring- 
ground,  protected  from  all  winds. 

Alhurg  Passage  is  the  narrow  stretch  of 
water  lying  between  Alburg  Tongue  and  North 
Hero,  leading  into  Missisquoi  Bay,  and  is  free  of 
obstructions  until   you   come    to   the    railroad 


184 


J.AKE  CIIAAirLAIX. 


^ridgo,  where   tliere   is  a  draw.     North  of  the 
draw  a  inilo  or  more  is  tlie 

Alhimjh  Jlotd,  or  Albiirgh  Springs  Hotel, 
which  is  so  well  and  favorably  known  that  I 
need  not  do  more  tlian  thus  mention  it. 

From  this  hotel- the  course  bears  north  by  east 
until  yon  enter  the  main  body  of  Missisquoi  Bay, 
when  the  course  carves  to  the  east  and  south' 
until  you  come  to  the  famous 

nUjU-Gatc  Springs  Hotel,  located  at  the  south- 
em  extremity  of  the  bay,  and  whence  you  will 
•  naturally  begin  your  return  cruise,  which  can  be 
by  the  same  course  you  entered  or  through 
Maquam  Bay  and  the  large  body  of  water  east 
of  North  Hero. 

There  is  no  question   but  that  the  wide  and 
long  stretch  of  water  east  of  the  two  Heroes  is 
one  of  the  most  lovely  and  picturesque  on  Lake 
Champlain.     It  also  abounds  with  fish,  and  by 
many  is  regarded  as  the  best   black-bass  ground 
in    the    lake.     It    is    beautifully    studded    with 
islands;  and    bounded  with    lovely  shores,  and 
should  be  visited  by  all  yachtsmen  and  tourists. 
But  we   do  not  feel  like  attempting  a  verbal 
pilotage  of  this  expanse  of  water,  for  fear  that, 


lie 


YACIITINd  FACILITIES. 


185 


trusting  to  it  or  encouraged  to  go  beyond  the 
cour.scH  marked  out  by  us,  some  misadventure 
sbould  liappen.  AYe  earnestly  recommend  all  to 
visit  this  deligbtful  section  of  tlie  Lake,  and  at 
the  same  time  as  earnestly  advise  local  pilotages 
until  the  visiting  yachtsmen  hsarn  the  water  tor 
themselves.  As  w(!  have  before  said,  the  officers 
of  the  Lake  Chainplain  Yacht  Club  at  Bur- 
lington will  gladly  supply  all  needed  information 
or  assistance  to  all  visitors  seeking  it. 


PART   IV. 

mSTOniCAL  REMINISCENCES  AND  FACTS 
CONNECTED  WITH  THE  SIIOUES  OF  LAKE 
CHAMFLAIN. 


A  QUARTER  of  a  centurj  has  passed  since  my 
studentsliip  of  Lake  Cliamplain  and  its  shores 
began,  and  the  fartlior  niy  investigations  were 
pushed  the  more  was  I  astonished  at  the  wealtli 
of  interesting  material  whicli  hiy  scattered  about 
on  all  sides,  waiting  to  be  collected  and  properly 
arranged  for  popular   perusal.     The    period    of 
time  to  be  investigated  in  the  interest  of  his- 
torical knowledge  covers  nearly  three  centuries, 
and  during  all  these  three  hundred  years  there 
is  not  one  of   the   multitude   of   events  which 
have  happened  on  this  lake  which  has  not  been 
closely  connected  with,  and  had  a  more  or  less 
powerful  influence  upon,  the  course  and  develop- 
ment  of   American   history.      The   destiny   of 
Canada  and  the  United  States  alike  was  decided 


IIISTOllICAL  RKMINISCKNCES. 


187 


hy  what  occurred  on  its  waters  and  shores,  and 
yet  no  adequate  examination  into  or  presenta- 
tion of  these  doinos  has  ever  been  made  by  an 
American  writer.     The  absence  of  such  a  state- 
ment as  the  subject  demands  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  matter  of   such  poignant  regret  as  may  not 
be  felt  or  gauged  by  one  unless  he  has  given 
some  attention   to   it    and   is   measurably  well 
informed  in  respect  to  the  long  and  persistent 
struggle  in  which  France  and  England  engaged 
for  the  possession  of  the  continent,  and  which, 
for  the  most  part,  was  fought  out  on  this  lake. 

It  was  my  intention,  in  the  closing  section  of 
this   little  vohnne,  to    have    drawn    at    least  a 
silhouette  portrait  of   this  momentous  contest, 
that  my  readers  might  have  a  partial  knowledge 
of  what  it  meant  to  tliem :    of   its   connection 
with  American  liberty  and  civilization,  and  how 
it   made   Lexington,    Bunker    Hill,    Yorktown, 
free  schools  and  free  churches,  possible.     But 
my  publisher  cannot  accommodate  me  with  the 
space  which  the  briefest  possible  presentation  of 
the  subject  would   require,  and   hence  I    must 
forego  the  attempt.     It  only  remains  for  me  to 
fill  the  few  pages  at  my  command  with    such 


188 


I.AKK   CIIAAll'LAIX. 


HclecMons  from  a  mass  of  notos  .-iikI  dala  [  have 
iruule  iiiul  collocii'd  as  noom  most  likely,  in  a 
detacljt'd  and  disconiKujUMl  foi'iii,  to  interest  my 
readers.  I  imagine  that  to  some  — not  the  least 
discerninn-  — these  abbreviated  notes,  jottinirs, 
and  memoranda  of  events,  persons,  and  things 
will  make  th(»  most  interesting  and  vahiable 
pages  of  this  little  book. 


I  'i 


J I 


ARNOLD  NOT  AT  TICONDEIIOC.A  WHEN   CAPTURED 
HV    ETHAN   ALLEN. 

It  is  in  the  interest  of  the  facts  of  history 
that  I  record  my  conviction   that   Arnold  was 
not  with  Allen  and  his   party  at   the    capture 
of  Ticonderoga,  and  did  not  arrive  there  until 
several  days  after  it.^  capture.     T  am  well  aware 
that  Tra  Allen,  in  his  history  of  Vermont,  and 
Dr.  Williams,  state  that  Arnold,  with  a  commis- 
sion from  Massachusetts  as  Colonel,  arrived  at 
Castleton  before  Allen  left  there,  and  claimed  of 
Allen  the  right  to  supplant    him  in   the   com- 
niand  of   the  expedition,  and  that   they  state, 
moreover,  that  he  renewed  the  demand  on  the 
morning  of  the   lOth  of  May,  when  about  to 
attempt  to  enter  the  fortress.     Their  statements 


IIISTOUK'AI.    HKMINISCKNCKS. 


189 


have  been  copied  by  nearly  all  liistoriana  since, 
and  have  been  accepted  as  trnc  by  tbc  people 
at  large.  Nevertliclcss,  tlu;  statements  of  Ira 
Allen  and  Dr.  Williams  arc  directly  (umtradicted 
by  otbers,  wliost;  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  the 
case  and  entire  honesty  cannot  Ik^  successfully 
impeached,  and  especially  by  one  whose  word, 
were  it  not  supported  —  as  it  is  abundantly  — 
by  others,  and  by  niany  corroborating  circum- 
stiinces,  appears  to  me  to  be  absolutely  con- 
clusive. 

Nathan  Beman  was  Allen's  guide  on  that 
occasion,  lie  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  intelli- 
gent and  honest.  He  had  as  a  boy  played  with 
the  children  of  the  oflicers  of  the  fort,  and 
knew  every  nook  and  angle  of  it.  It  was 
because  of  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
fortress  and  the  grounds  around  it,  and  his 
general  intelligence,  that  he  was  selected  by 
Allen  for  this  responsible  duty.  From  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case  he  was  by  Allen's  side 
continuously.  This  Nathan  Beman  nnist  have 
known  the  facts  of  the  matter,  and  he  always 
and  repeatedly  asserted,  in  the  most  positive 
manner,  hi  after   years,   that   Arnold   did   not 


E!    'l! 


'J     ■ 


190 


LAKE  CIIAiAM'LAIN. 


accompany  the  expedition,  was  not  present  with 
the   party   on    the   night   of    the    attack    and 
capture,  and  did  not  arrive  at  Ticonderoga  till 
several  days  after  its  capture.     Beman's°  testi- 
mony was  fully  and  often  corroborated  by  many 
others  who  had  knowledge  of  the  facts,  nor  did 
Ethan  Allen,  in  his  account  of  the  afPair,  make 
the  least  mention  of   or  allusion  to  Arnold  as 
being  present  until  after   the   capture   of   the 
fort.     The  fact  seems  to  us  as  firmly  established 
as  competent  testimonv  z^u  establish  any  fact 
of  history,  that  BeneJ.ct  Arnold  was  not  with 
the  expedition,  and  had  no    part  whatever   in 
the  capture  of  Ticonderog£i. 

WINOOSKI    RIVEK. 

The  Winooskl  River  is  not  only  a  very  beauti  • 
fill   stream,   but  to  a   peculiar  degree   historic. 
The  Abenakis  Indians  originally  occupied  the 
east  side   of  the   lake   from    opposite  Mohavvk 
Hock  to  the  northern   end  of   Missisquoi  Bay, 
and   the   Winooski   River  was,  because  of   its 
multitude  of  salmon  and  the  beauty  of  its  banks, 
a  favorite  resort  of  theirs.     It  was  along  this 
river  also  that  the  old  Indian  trail  ran  whioh 


::^iv- 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


191 


led  over  to  the  Connecticut,  and  was  much  used 
by  all  the  northern  tribes  in  friendship  with 
the  Abenakis,  in  their  annual  migrations  to  and 
from  the  seacoast.  The  Indians  and  French 
alike  used  this  route  in  their  forays  against  the 
English  settlements  in  western  Massachusotts. 
It  was  down  this  river  that  the  captives  taken 
at  Deerfield  were  brought  in  the  winter  of  1704, 
on  their  fearful  journey  to  Canada.  There  is 
no  section  in  New  England  more  interesting  to 
those  who  are  curious  as  to  ancient  times  and 
early  colonial  matters  than  that  which  lies 
between  Burlington  Bay  and  Missisquoi  Bay. 
The  Abenakis  were  not  only  a  brave  tribe,  but 
a  large  and  most  ancient  one.  The  famous  Urn 
in  the  Museum  of  the  University  is  believed  to 
be  of  their  manufacture,  and  its  artistic  excel- 
lence is  of  such  high  order  as  to  provoke  curi- 
osity as  to  the  origin  of  this  ancient  people, 
and  the  development  of  manufacture  among 
them.  At  the  mouth  of  the  La  Moille  River 
they  evidently  had  a  large  and  permanent  en- 
campment, for  many  graves  have  been  dis- 
covered there  in  which  the  skeletons  exhumed 
were  found  to  liave  been   buriod   in  a   sitting 


192 


I'AKE  ClIAAlri.AIN. 


posture,  facing  westward,  and  in  tliose  were 
many  aboriginal  relic,  fini.shcl  with  great  per- 
fection. The  whole  region  k  of  interest  to 
antiquarians. 


lliA   ALLEN. 

Ira  Allen  was  tlio  jouncrost  of 


was    born    in    Cor 

His  brother,  Ethan  AH 

and  became  n 


six  sons,  and 

nw.ill,   Ct.,    April    21,    1751. 

on,  was    the    first-born. 


Jore  noted  in  the    annals  of   tl 


times  from    the   accident   of   age   and 
stance  rather  than  from  superior  ability;  forTr 


cu^cnm- 


All 


ii 


on,   m    m 


mental 


■mj    respects,    outranked    1 


11  m     in 


opacity,   esp(H'ially   as   applied    to    the 


management  of   conn 


'K'lvial    affai 


rs. 


vices  he  rendered  the  State  of  \ 
in  fact,  he  organized  —  f 
that  the  timid  and  si 


Tl 


10   ser- 


ormont,  which, 


anytl 


<>i'  no  one  could  cl 


ow-moving  Chittenden  w, 


urn 


'i»g  nioi-e  than  a  figurehead  in  tl: 


IS 


movements  and  and; 


0  spirited 


time  —  wer 


loious    negotiaticms  of    tl 


that  1 


0    of   tlu!   hi<:>hest   oi'd 


le 


Cl- 


io was  subtle  to  a  d( 


All 


OAvnio- 


'gree,  at  times  an  intri- 


gant  to  the  verge  of  disloyalty,  and  unduly 
moved  by  personal  and  .elfish  eonsiderations,  it 
should  nevertheless  be  ren,e.nbered  that  in  these 


IIISTOIUCAL  KEMINISCEXCES. 


193 


characteristics  lie  simply  reflected  the  fashion  of 
the  times  and  tlie  habits  of  the  men  witli  whom 
he  was  associated.     Surrounded  by  sharpers,  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at;  if  lie  became  at  times 
and  in  certain    connections  a  sharper   himself. 
The  Aliens  were  not  saijits,  and  Ira,  like   his 
brothers,  would  not,  we  presume,  by  a  conclave 
of  an.irels,  have  hecn  selected  for  canonization. 
But  his  faults  were  hirgcdy  those  of  nature,  and 
his  failings  such  as  were  shared  with  him  by 
tlie  best  of  his  associates.     The  leading  spirits 
that  with  their  shrewdness  and  their  courage, 
out  of  fourfold  opposition,  hewed  the  State  of 
Vermont,  were  nearly  all  born  in  Connecticut 
and   New   Ilampsliire,   which    is   the   same   as 
saying   that   they   were  ^^on   the   make,"  and 
had  little  scruple  how  they  made  it,  if  within 
the  law.      And  as   at  first  there  was  no  law 
save  such  as  their  ambition  dictated  and  their 
rifles  enforced,  they  did  pretty  much  as  they 
pleased.     To  them  the  valley  of  Champlain  was 
as    the    promised    land    to  the    Israelites,    and 
they  went  in  to  possess  it,  and  they  did! 

It  should  be   remembered  that  Ethan  Allen 
was  taken  prisoner  soon  after  the  commence- 


I 


194 


LAKE  CIIAMPLALV. 


ment  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  was  car- 
ried a  captive  to  England.     Ronioniber  Baker 
—  probably  the  most  able  of  the  group  —  was 
killed  at   Isle   la   Noix   by  an   Indian.      Seth 
Warner  joined  the  Continental   army,  as   also 
did   others   of    prominence  —  so    that    Thomas 
Chittenden  and  Ira  Allen  were  left  in  absolute 
control  of  public  affairs.     These  two  men  were, 
to  all  intents    and    purposes,   dictators.     Allen 
was  by  far   the   stronger    spirit   and    of    more 
brilliant  parts.     His   pliy.sical    appearance  was 
unusually  attractive;  his  address  pleasing,  and 
his  manners  those  of  a  gentleman.     In  counsel 
he  was  astute,  and  in  action  bold  ;  to  the  ability 
and   courage   of  his    family    was,  in    his   case, 
added  suavity ;  the  smooth  suavity  of  a  natural 
born  dii>lomat.     His  mind  was  capable  of  large 
conceptions,  and  his  disposition  was  generous. 
He  was  public-spirited  to  a  degree,    especially 
where  his  own  interests  were   coincident  with 
those  of  the  public. 

As  a  city,  Burlington  owes  to  him  its  early 
prominence,  and  the  university  which  crowns 
its  site,  its  existence  and  location.  It  was  his 
hand  that  drew  the  memorial  to  tlie  Lecrinlature 


IIISTOKICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


19.1 


one  hundred  years  ago— 1789  — which  secured 
for  it  the  assistance  of  the  State  and  its  location 
at  Burlington.  lie  accompanied  the  memorial 
with  a  subscription  of  £4,000. 

At  this  time,  Ira  Allen  was  one  of  the  richest 
men  in  the  country.     He  owned  three  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  land  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
His  immense  domain  stretched  from  Ferrisburc'' 
to  the  Canada  line,  and  included  the  most  de- 
sirable land  of  eleven  townships.    To  me,  havin^r 
knowledge  of  the  territory  embraced,  the  magnifi- 
cent forests  standing  on  it,  the  immense  fisheries 
with  which  it  abounded,  the  mar})le  quarries  it 
contained,  the  wealth  of  its  soils,  and  the  majestic 
scenery  which  distinguished  it,  it  was  the  most 
magnificent  estate  ever  owned  by  one  individual 
in  a  civilized  community  on  the  globe. 

Of  the  misfortunes  that  befell  him  in  later 
years  ;  of  the  injustice  he  experienced,  and  the 
miseries  he  endured;  how  he  was  robbed  of 
reputation  and  property;  how  his  liberty  even 
was  threatened,  and  to  escape  unjust  imprison- 
ment he  was  compelled  to  fly  the  St-ite  he  had 
created,  may  not  be  written  here.  The  wrongs 
and  misfortunes  of  Ira  Alien,  on  the  eastern  side 


m 
w 


196 


LAKE  CHAM  PLAIN. 


of  the  lake,  and  of  William  Gilliland,  on  the 
shore   directly  opposite,  are  the  direst   I  ever 
read  of  inflicted  on  de-erving  men,  under  form 
of  law,  in  a  civilized  community.     It  is  enough 
to  say  that  the  man  whose  wisdom  and  courage 
created    Vermont ;  whose   diplomacy  preserved 
it  from  devastation  by  the  British ;  whose  fore- 
sight made  the  victory  at  Bennington  possible 
to  American  arms ;  whose  public  spirit  and  gen- 
erosity erected  its  university,  and  who,  by  his 
ability  in  business,  became  its  wealthiest  citizen, 
died  in  exile  and  poverty,  and  was  buried  by 
charity  in  an  unknown  grave.     And,  stranger 
than  all,  there   is    not   within   the   borders  of 
Vermont  a  monument  or  even  a  tablet  erected 
to  his  memory  ! 

THE   BOUQUET   RIVER. 

By  one  event  this  little  and  little-known 
stream  is  lifted  into  historic  prominence,  and 
is  connected  with  famous  measures  and  men ;  an 
event  which  brought  the  attention  of  Europe  to 
its  banks,  and  profoundly  stirred  the  humane 
emotions  of  mankind.  It  is  strange  that  a  spot 
should  be  forgotten  on  which  an  act  was  done, 


I! 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


197 


only  122  years  ago,  of  so  horrible  a  nature  that 
it  awoke  the  thunders  of  Chatham's  eloquence, 
and  filled  with  horror  the  hosom  of  the  Christian 
world;  an  act  which  harmonized  the  popular 
factions  in  the  American  colonies  and  united 
them  in  one  common  impulse  of  indignation  and 
rage  against  the  host  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga. 
It  seems  fitting  that  I  should  rescue  from  for- 
getfulness  the  act  which  made  the  Bouquet 
noted  throughout  a  hemisphere,  and  will  for- 
ever make  it  noted  in  the  history  of  the 
continent. 

Previous  to  his  advance,  Burgoyne  had  sent 
out  a  summons  to  the  Indians  to  meet  him  at 
the  falls  of  the  Bouquet.     The  result  was  that 
they  obeyed  him  in  such  numbers  and  animated 
with  such    ferocity  that  he   was  alarmed,  and 
filled  with  forebodings  as  to  the  issue  of  his  own 
act.     It  was  June  20,  1777,  that  he  convened 
the   chiefs   in   council.     The    council  was  held 
about  half  a  mile  below  the  house  of  William 
Gilliland.     Burgoyne   addressed   them   and   in- 
vited them  to  join  him  in  his  campaign  against 
the  Americans.     A  chief  —  chosen  to  represent 
the  assembled  tribes  —  accepted  the   invitation 


198 


LAKK  OIIAMPr.AIN. 


IHlif: 


in  a  speech  of  such  eloquence  and  ferocity  that 
it  startled  the  English  officers  —  for  in  it  he 
pledged  his  kindred  to  a  merciless  warfare 
against  the  colonies.  The  treaty  was  ratified 
with  savage  orgies,  and  England  stood  con- 
demned for  enlisting  wild  hordes  of  savages  as 
her  allies  in  a  contest  against  men  of  her  own 
blood  and  civilization.  What  a  subject  this 
famous  council  and  the  influences  of  it  would 
make  for  a  historic  poem  or  romance ! 
\ 

BATEAUX. 

These  boats    are   constantly  mentioned,  not 
only  hi  the  early  records  of  military  operations 
on  the  lake,  but  as  supplying  the  settlers  with 
their  principal  means  of  transportation  in  times 
of   peace.     They  were   not   only   in   use   upon 
Champlain,  but  also  upon  the  Hudson  and  the 
Mohawk.     We  have  often  been  asked  what  was 
the  fashion  of  these  popular  and  most  service- 
able craft?     To  this  interrogation  the  correct 
answer  is  —  that  they  were  long  narrow  boats 
with   flat   bottoms.      They   were   from   six   to 
twelve  feet  in  width,  and  from  sixteen  to  thirty 
feet  in  length.     As  a  rule,  they  were  not  decked 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  199 

over,  but  some  had  a  partial  deck  and  a  cabin 
at  the  stern.  They  were  propelled  by  oars  and 
sails  both.  In  shallow  water  they  were  pushed 
along  by  poles.  They  drew,  even  when  loaded, 
but  a  foot  or  so  of  water,  and  running  before 
a  good  wind  sailed  quite  fast.  I  have  seen  the 
large  bateaux  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  their 
immense  square  sails,  running  before  the  wind, 
outsail  the  crack  yachts  of  the  Canadians. 

The  Bouquet  is  a  picturesque  and  beautiful 
river.     Its  source  is  among   the    Adirondacks, 
and  its  course  a  long  and  crooked  one.     It  flows 
into  the  lake  at  Willsborough.     It  may  have 
been  named  after  General  Bouquet,  or  from  the 
multitude  of  flowers  which  in  spring  and  sum- 
mer adorned  its   banks,   or   from    bouquet,  the 
French  word  for  flume  or  trough,  which  term  is 
descriptive  of  the  appearance  of  the  river  below 
the  falls.     At  these  falls  the  original  settlement 
of   William    Gilliland,    Esq.,  was   made.     This 
remarkable    and    noted    man   was    the    great 
pioneer   of   the   western    shore   of    Champlain. 
His  history,  in  its  vicissitudes,  struggles,  wrongs, 
and  forlorn  death,  surpasses  the  creations  of  the 


200 


LAKE  CIIAMIM.AIN. 


wildest  romance.  Tlie  Bouquet  and  Wills- 
borough  are  well  worth  visiting,  if  for  no  oilier 
object  than  in  respect  to  the  nieniojy  of  the 
noble  and  unhappy  man  who  first  selected  its 
lovely  banks  for  his  home.  (See  note  on  Wil- 
liam Gilliland.)  A  part  of  General  Burgoyne's 
fleet  entered  the  Boiupiot,  and  British  gunboats 
bombarded  and  captured  Willshorough  village 
during  the   War  of  1812. 


■1-liiHi 


The    Four  Bkotiiei^s  — or    Iks    dc    Qnafre 
Vents,  The  Islands  of  the  Four  Winds,  as  the 
French  nanuHl  them —are  a  beautiful  group  of 
islands,  and  should  be  visited  by  all  tourists  of 
the  lake.      The  French  gave  characteristic  and 
vividly  descriptive  names  to  physical  objects  and 
geographical  peculiarities.     They  were  excelled 
only  hy  the  aboriginals   in    this    respect.     The 
English  had  less  imagination  and  poetry  in  their 
make-up,  and  luMice  their  nomenclature  is  i)uerile 
or  vulgar.     Their  rude  displacement  of  French 
and   Indian    names    was    a    misfortune    to    the 
couniry.     T   cannot   better   illustrate   this   than 
by  reminding  the  reader,  as  his  eyes  dwell  upon 
one  of  the  loftiest  peaks  of  the  Green  Moun- 


IIISTOKICAI.   UKMINISC-KNCES. 


201 


tains,  that  tlio  Fronoli  called  it  ''Lion  Couchant'' 
—  a  iiohle  appellation.  The  Knglish  looked  at 
the  same  sublime  formaticm  and  called  it 
"Camel's  Rump!"  a  danmahle  name.  It  has 
since  been  "imi)roved"  |.y  us  Americans  into 
''  CamcVs  llmnpr  Ye  gods,  what  a  name  for 
such  a  noble  mountain  !  \  pray  you,  reader 
help  me  lo  populariz(!  the  old  French  appella- 
tion of  '^The  Crouchin<r  Lion." 


FISH    AND    FISniNCf. 

The  abundance  of    fish   in   Lake   Champlain 
when  its  shores  were  first  settled  was  a  matter 
of  surprise   to   the   settlers.     The  records   that 
were  made  at  that  time  by  honest  and  honorable 
men,  while  they  stir  astonishment,  nevertheless 
are  above  impeachment.     It  is  doubtful  if  any 
body  of  water  on  the  continent  was  ever  visited 
by  such  vast  numbers  of  salmon  as  Champlain 
once  was.     The    rivers    flowing   into   the   lake 
were  as  thick  with  them,  at  times,  as  are  the- 
rivers  of  the  Pacific  coast  to-day.     It  was  dan- 
gerous  to   attempt   to    ride    a    spirited   .horse 
through    them    because    of    the    multitude    of 
salmon  that  actually  packed  the  water.    As  late 


202 


LAKE   CHAM  PLAIN. 


as  1823,  fifteen  IntndmJ  pmniffs  wore  taken  at 
Chestcrflold,  at  one  haul  of  the  sv'ine.  Tliey 
were  taken  in  <rreat  quantities -at  Phittsbun'- 
in  1824-25.  Civilization  has  its  triumphs,  it  is 
true,  hut  what  a  pity  that  it  achieves  them  at 
the  cost  of  suiOi  a  vast  destruction.  If  the 
lake  had  the  fish  to-day  that  it  had  even  fifty 
years  ago,  it  would  bring  millions  of  dollars 
to  the  two  States  that  border  its  waters. 

CLOVEN   ROCK. 

It  is  a  pity  that  the  name  "  Split "  has  been 
allowed  to  iix   itself  to  this  singular  and  pic- 
turesque   foiMnation.       The    French    called    it 
Iiioehe  rendu,  and  its  original  name  in  Eno-lish 
was   Cloven   Rock.       May    I   ask   that    pilots, 
correspondents,  and  tovnnsts  assist  me  to  restore 
to  it    its   old-time  appropriate  name?     Cloven 
Rock  contains  considerable  surface,  and  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  promontory  near  it  by  a  fissure 
some   ten   feet    wide.      Much    exaggeration   is 
indulged  in  by  makers  of  "guide-books"  touch- 
ing this  physical  curiosity,  especially  as  to  the 
depth  of  the  fissure :  .<  vine  stating  that  it  goes 
down^ye  hundred  fcti'  the  fact  being  it  doesn't 


IIIS'I'ORICAL   KKMINfSCENX'ES. 


203 


go  down  at  all.  For  at  low  water  the  tourist 
can  walk  through  tho  fissiiro  on  solid  rock  and 
dry  rock  at  that  !  But  who  expects  facts  in  a 
guide-hook  ? 

Essex,  originally  called  Elizabeth,  was  named 
hy  Williaui  Gilliland,  the  original  proprietor 
of^  L.c  site  of  the  village,  after  his  wife. 
Elizabethtown  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  it, 
although  named  by  the  same  party  and  for  the 
same  reason.  Mr.  Gilliland  designated  many 
places  within  the  limits  of  his  immense  posses- 
sions by  the  names  of  members  of  his  family. 

Chad  Island  was  originally  called  St. 
Michael's  Island.  After  Macdonough's  battle, 
it  was  called  Hospital  Island,  because  those  who 
were  wounded  in  that  fight,  whether  American 
or  English,  were  landed  there  for  treatment. 

Valcour  Island  is  in  New  York  State,  and 
is  the  largest  island  in  the  lake  belonging  to 
that  State.  It  is  a  most  interesting  spot,  his- 
torically considered.  Between  it  and  the  west- 
ern shore,  Arnold  fought  his  desperate  fight 
with  Carleton.     On  the  east  side  Andierst  cap= 


204 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


all? 
m 


tured  the  French  bateaux  fleeing  from  Crown 
Point  toward  Canada,  and  thas  extinguished  for- 
ever the  French  possession  of  and  title  to  the 
lake.  To  the  northeast  of  the  same  island, 
Macdonough  won  his  famous  victory. 

The  La  Moille  River.  —  This  river  was  un- 
doubtedly  entered  by  Champlain  in  1609.  It 
was  called  by  him  la  Mouette,  or  Gull  River, 
because  this  species  of  birds  were  very  plentiful 
at  its  mouth.  In  Charlevoix's  map  of  1744,  it 
is  written  La  Riviere  a  la  Mouelle,  this  change 
from  Champiciin's  nomenclature  being  due  un- 
questionably to  a  failure  on  the  part  of  the  writ- 
ing clerk  to  cross  the  two  €s.  The  transition 
from  La  Mouelle  to  La  Moille  is  an  easy  one. 
In  this  case  a  blunder  is  acceptable,  because 
La  Moille  is  a  pleasant  word,  but  I  confess  to  a 
wish  that  the  name  Champlain  gave  it  may  be 
preserved  and  popularized,  and  that  we  might 
still  know  it  as  he  knew  it  —  as  La  Mouette. 

HISTORIC    SITES. 

I  presume  that  all  who  have  knowledge  of  the 
route  would  unhesitatingly  admit  that  the 
journpy  by  water  from  New  York  up  the  Hud- 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


205 


son,  and  through  the  Whitehall  Canal  to  Lake 
Champlain,  and  down  the  lake  to  Rouse's  Point, 
would  bring  the  voyager  in  view  of  more  lovely 
and   majestic  scenery  and   memorable   historic 
sites  than  any  other  tour  of  equal  length  that 
might  be  taken  on  the  continent.     For  on  this 
voyage  he  would  pass  West  Point  and  old  Fort 
Orange  — now   Albany— and   in   sight  of   the 
very  spot  where  stood  the  tree  to  which  PutLam 
was  bound  to  be  tortured  in  1757;  Forts  Edward 
and  Miller  — near   the   former   of   which  Miss 
McCrea  was  murdered.    He  would  pass  near  the 
spot  where  General  Burgoyne  surrendered  his 
sword,  October  17,  1777,  and  where  the  brave 
Frazier  fell.     Farther  on  is  the  South  Bay  of 
Lake  Champlain,  where  General  Dieskau  landed 
his  forces  in  his  vain  attempt  to  capture  General  ' 
Johnson's  army  on  Lake  George.    Then  he  would 
come   to   the    world-renowned   ruins   of  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  a  little  farther  on  to  Crown  Point, 
where   the    French,    in    1731,   built    Fort    St. 
Frederick,  and,  later.  General  Amherst,  in  1759, 
began  the  magnificent   fortress   that   was  cap- 
tured from  the  English  by  Colonel  Seth  Warner, 
the  day  after  Ethan  Allen  seized,  with  his  band 


206 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


r. 


of    Green    Mountain    boys,    Ticonderoga.      At 
Valcour   Island,  he   beholds   the   scene  of   the 
brave  naval  fight  Arnold  made  with  the  English 
fleet,  and,  to  the  east  of  the  same  island,  the 
spot  where  the  English  gunboats,  under  Amherst, 
captured  the  last  boats  to  bear  the  French  flac^ 
on   the   lake,  as   they  were  fleeing   northward 
after  they  had  evacuated  Crown  Point.    Between 
this  island  and  Cumberland  Head,  he  sails  over 
water   where   the   brave  Macdonough   won  his 
great  -victory  against  his  equally  brave  but  less 
fortunate  antagonist  —  one  of  the  fiercest  con- 
flicts ever  fought  by  ships  on  any  water.    While 
at  the  Isle  La  Motte,  he  can  still  see  the  mounds 
that  mark  the  spot  where  once  stood  Fort  St. 
Anne  — the  first   fort   built   on  the  lake,   and 
around   whose   walls   was   the  first   settlement 
ever   made   by  civilized    men   in   the   State  of 
Vermont  or  on  the  lake.     For  Fort  Anne  was 
built  in  1665,  while  the  little  fort  on  Chimney 
Point  was  erected  in  1690,  and  old  Fort  Dum- 
mer  —  a  mere  block  house  —  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Connecticut,  was  put  up  in  1724.     Is  it 
not  a  strange  thing  that  so  few  Americans  have 
ever   gone  over  this  course,  unequalled   as   it 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


207 


is  for  the  beauty  of  its  scenery,  and  the 
multitude  of  its  historic  sites  and  inspiring 
memories  ? 


VERGENNES 

Is  a  most  interesting  locality.  Although  in 
respect  to  its  population  it  is  but  a  village,  and 
not  a  large  one  at  that,  it,  nevertheless,  is  one 
of  the  oldest  cities  in  the  United  States,  for  it 
was  incorporated  October  23,  1788.  By  its 
ancient  charter  of  incorporation  it  is  four  hun- 
dred and  eighty  by  four  hundred  rods  in  extent. 
Its  first  mayor  was  elected  March  12,  1789. 
He  was  Enoch  Woodbridge,  subsequently  chief 
justice  of  the  Supreme  Court.  In  1798,  a  State- 
house  was  erected  here,  and  in  that  year  the 
General  Assembly  held  its  session  in  it. 

The  first  settler  was  Donald  Mcintosh,  a 
native  of  Scotland.  He  fought  in  the  battle  of 
Culloden.  He  emigrated  to  this  country  with 
General  Wolfe's  army,  and  died  July  14,  1803, 
aged  eighty-four  years.  Otter  River  passes 
through  the  city,  and  its  falls  give  abundant 
power  for  manufacturing  purposes.  During  the 
war  this  power  was  utilized  far  more  than  it  is 


208 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


now.  The  river  is  navigable  to  the  foot  of  the 
falls,  some  seven  miles  from  the  lake,  for  vessels 
of  large  draft.  It  was  here  that  Macdonoiigh 
fitted  out  his  fleet  with  which  he  won  his  cele- 
brated victory  against  the  English  off  Platts- 
burg.  It  has  an  excellent  hotel,  and  is  one  of 
the  prettiest  villages  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
Tourists  would  find  the  sail  up  the  river  and  a 
stroll  through  this  little  old  city  most  enjoyable. 

TICONDEROGA. 

That  the  reader  may  have  certain  momentous 
events  in  close  sequence  and  easily  memorized, 
I  would  note,  — 

That  the  skirmish  at  Lexington  occurred 
April  19,  1775. 

Ethan  Allen,  with  his  band  of  followers,  cap- 
tured Ticonderoga  May  10,  1775. 

Seth  Warner  captured  the  fortress  at  Crown 
Point  the  next  day. 

In  these  forts  they  found  more  than  two  hun- 
dred pieces  of  cannon,  some  mortars,  howitzers, 
and  an  immense  amount  of  military  stores,  and 
beside  these  a  large  quantity  of  ship  and  boat 
building  material.     Soon  after,  the  only  armed 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


209 


sloop  on  the  lake  was  captured  at  St.  Johns. 
And  thus  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  Revolu- 
tionary War,  Lake  Champlain,  with  all  its  power 
and  prestige,  and  which  had  cost  England  half 
a  century  to  capture,  passed  into  the  hands  of 
the  patriots.  Many  of  the  cannon  captured  at 
Ticonderoga  were  drawn  by  ox-teams  to  Boston, 
and  enabled  General  Washington  to  make  good 
his  works  on  Dorchester  Heights. 

THE    EARLY    HISTORY   OF    VERMONT. 

As  a  matter  of  interest  to  the  younger 
readers  of  these  pages,  I  make  the  following 
epitomized  statement  of  facts  relating  to  Ver- 
mont before  she  became  a  State. 

The  tract  of  unoccupied  mountainous  terri- 
tory which  lay  in  1749  between  Connecticut 
River  and  Lake  Champlain  was  then  claimed 
by  both  the  provinces  of  New  Hampshire  and 
New  York.  Both,  of  course,  were  English 
provinces  and  under  royal  governors.  In  that 
year  the  governor  of  New  IIam})shire  began  to 
make  grants  to  individuals  and  town  charters 
to  organized  bodies.  The  governor  of  New 
York  was  greatly  incensed  at  this  proceeding  of 


210 


LAKE   CIIAMl'LAIX. 


his  rival,  and  carried  the  matter  to  the  king  in 
England.     In  1764,  it  was  decided  by  him  that 
all  the  territory  west  of  the  Connecticut  and 
east   of  the    St.    Lawrence,   on    a    line  drawn 
through     Lake     Champlain,    belonged    to    the 
Province   of    New    York.      But    during    these 
sixteen  years,   before  the  matter  was  thus  de- 
cided,   the   governor   of    New   Hampshire   had 
made  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  grants  to  ho7iCi- 
fide  settlers,   chiefly  to  men  of  character  and 
•means  from  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,   and 
Connecticut.     These  "  grants  "  thus  given  (sold) 
to  these  settlers  by  the  governor  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, the  governor  of  New   York  pronounced 
null  and  void,  and  summoned  said  settlers  to 
purchase  new  titles  to  their  land  of  him.     Un- 
fortunately, he  fixed  the  price  at  a  very  high 
figure.     Some  of  the  towns  complied  with  his 
demand,  but  the  majority  refused  to  pay  twice 
over  for  their  lands.     This  is  why  what  is  now 
Vermont  was    originally  called   "New  Hamp- 
shire Grants,"  and  how  they  were  brought  into 
a  contest  with  New  York,  which  lasted  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  and  was   of  a  most  bitter  char- 
acter. 


HISTORICAL   REMINISC^ENC'ES. 


211 


The  governor  of  New  York  acted  with  great 
energy,  not  to  say  cruelty,  in  the  matter;  for  he 
proceeded  to  grant  the  lands  which  the  settlers 
would  not  repurchase,  to  others,  and  actions  of 
ejectment  were  brought,  and  judgment  obtained 
against  them  in  the  Albany  courts.     The  set- 
tlers on  the  grants  were  thus  compelled  either  to 
surrender  the  lands  they  had   paid  for  and  the 
houses  they  had  built  and   the  improvements 
they  had  made,  or  resist  these  unjust  proceed- 
ings against  them.     As  they  were  brave  men, 
they  naturally  decided  on  the  latter  course,  and 
when  the  New  York  officers  came  among  them 
to  eject  them  from  their  possessions  by  force, 
they  resisted  them  with  arms.     Many  of  these 
officers  were  roughly  handled,  and   treated    to 
flagellations  more  or  less  severe ;  whence  arose 
the  term  "  Beech  Seal,"  viz.,  if  a  sheriff  had  the 
"Beech  Seal"  put  upon  him,  it  meant  that  he 
had  been  publicly  whipped.     The  grim  humor 
of  the  term  was  fully  appreciated,  no  doubt,  by 
one  of  the  parties  to  the  transaction,  at  least. 
It  is  to  the  honor  of  the  militia  of  New  York  to 
record  that  they  refused  to  be  parties  to  the  at- 
tempt to  enforce  so  unjust  a  decision. 


212 


LAKE  CIIAiMPLAm. 


It  was  amid  such  scenes  and  in  defence  of 
the    rights   of   the   settlers   that   Ethan    Allen 
came  into  prominence.     He  was  born  in  Con- 
necticut and  came  of   good  stock.     With  him 
and  with  equal   spirit  stood  Remember  Baker, 
who  was  born  in  Connecticut  also.     No  bolder 
men  ever  lived ;  nor  were  they  lacking  in  educa- 
tion or  sagacity.     These  two  rallied  their  fellow- 
settlers  to  the  contest,  and  devised  measures  for 
the  common  welfare.     In  1774  the  governor  of 
New  York  caused  an  act  to  be  passed  to  the 
effect    that    unless   the    offenders   surrendered 
themselves  to  the  autliorities  of  that  province 
within  seventy  days  they  should  be  indicted  in 
a  court  of  that  colony  for  a  capital  offence,  and, 
if  convicted,  should  suffer  death  without  benefit 
of   clergy.     At  the  same  time  a  proclamation 
was  issued  offering  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds  for 
the  apprehension  of  Ethan  Allen,  Seth  Warner, 
and  six  others.     This  embittered  the  feeling  of 
the  settlers,  and  the  conflict  grew  hotter  and 
hotter    until    the    breaking    out    of    the   war 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  colonies  put  a 
stop  to  the  controversy  for  the  time  being.     As 
to  what  followed,  I  must  refer  my  readers  to  the 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


213 


histories  of  the  time,  as  I  may  not  extend  this 
note  to  greater  length. 

THE    FIRST    SETTLEMENT    IN   VERMONT. 

As  there  has  been  much  difference  in  the 
statements  of  local  historians  as  to  when  and 
where  the  first  settlement  by  wliite  men  was 
made  in  Vermont,  we  will  record  the  followino- 
facts :  — 

Fort  Dummer  was  built  in  1724,  and  was 
located  in  the  present  town  of  Brattleboro  —  at 
the  south-east  corner  of  it.  It  was  an  ordinary 
block  house  built  of  logs,  and  not  of  large 
size.  It  was  strictly  a  military  post  and  not  a 
settlement  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word. 

In  1690  (March  26)  Captain  Jacobus  de  Warm 
was  sent  from  Albany  with  a  small  body  of 
men  to  build  a  fort  at  the  narrows  of  the  lake, 
near  what  afterward  was  known  as  Crown 
Point.  He  built  a  small  stone  fort  at  what  is 
now  Chimney  Point,  in  the  town  of  Addison. 

From  this  it  appears  that  the  settlement  at 
Chimney  Point  in  the  tow^n  of  Addison  was 
made  tliirty-four  years  earlier  than  the  one 
made  in  Brattleboro. 


214 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Tlie  third  fact  is  that  tlie  French  built  Fort 
St.  Anne,  afterward  named,  from  the  officer  who 
constructed  it,  Fort  La  Motte,  upon  the  Isle  La 
Motte,  in  the  year  1665.     Of  this  there  is  and 
can  be  no  question.     It  therefore  appears  that 
tlie   settlement   on   Isle   La   Motte    was   made 
twenty-five  years  before  that  at  Chimney  Point, 
and   fifty-nine  years  before  Fort  Dummer  was 
built  on  the  Connecticut,  at  Brattleboro.     The 
location   of  this   old   fort,  which,  were  it  now 
standing,  would  be  over  two  centuries  old,  can 
still  be  traced  by  discernible  mounds,  on  one  of 
which  stands  a  white  pine  over  six  feet  in  diam- 
eter.    The  Isle  La  Motte  is  regarded  by  many 
as  the  most  beautiful  one  in  the  lake. 

CIIAMPLAm   AT   BURLINGTON. 

.  Hon.  Thomas  H.  Canfield,  several  years  since, 
made  a  very  exhaustive  canvass  of  the  facts 
bearing  upon  this  question,  and  a  written 
presentation  of  them,  as  brought  out  by 
this  examination.  Indeed  his  article  is  one 
of  the  clearest  in  point  of  style,  and  valuable 
as  viewed  in  the  light  of  material  collected, 
of  all  the  numberless  ones  that  have  been  pre- 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  215 

pared  by  native  writers,  for  it  includes  not  only 
the  evidences  which  go  to  prove  that  Champlain 
entered  the  Winooski,  but  a  vast  amount  of  in- 
formation   concerning   the  early  navigation  of 
the  lake,  and  many  other   interesting  matters 
associated    witli    it.      Without   entering  into  a 
full    exposition  of   my   views    touching   Cham- 
plain's  visit  to  the  vicinity  of  Burlington  Bay, 
I  beg  to  state  that  there  is  no  reason  to  think 
that  he  did  not  enter  the  Winooski,  while  there 
exists  the  strongest  evidence  to  prove  that  he 
did.     It  is  in  his  own  record  that   he  entered 
the  La  Moille  River -Riviere  de  la  Mouette  or 
Gull  River,  as  he  called  it -and,  from  inference, 
it  follows  that  he  would  not  pass  the  Winooski 
without  entering  it  also.     I  make  no  doubt  but 
that  he  went  up  the  Winooski  as   far  as   the 
falls,  and  that  he  visited  Burlington  Bay,  getting 
his  first  view  of  it,  probably,  from  some^  point 
between  what  is  now  the  park  and  the  railway 
tunnel.     From  this  point  he  could  clearly  dis- 
cern the  mountains  to  the  south  and  west  on  the 
western  shore,  -  as  he  says  in  his  journal  he  did, 
—  which  he  could  not  do  from  any  other  point 
so  clearly  unless  it  may  have  been  from  Apple- 


216 


LAKK  CI  I  AM  PLAIN. 


Tree  Point.    From  on(3  of  tl.ose  two  positions  he 
iin.loiibt(MlIy  got  ],is  first  glinips.s  of  Mohawk 
Kock,  of  which  and  its  signilicanco  as  marking 
the  boundary  line   between  the   United   People 
and  the  northern   Indians  he   must    have  been 
repeatedly  told  by  bis  savage   associates    from 
the    hour    they    first    entered    the    lake.       His 
alhision    also    to    -groves    of    chestnut-trees " 
fixes,  conclusively,  the  fact  of  his  presence  in 
this    locality,   for   it   is    well    known    that    the 
chestnut-tree  was  not  indigenous  on  the  western 
shore  of  the  lake  to  a  point  so   far  north,  while 
it  is  well  established  that  large  groves  of  chest- 
nut-trees were  standing  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  lake  at  least  as  far  north  as  the  La  Moille 
River. 

SOURCE    OP   MODERN   SOILS. 

The  rich  soils  of  the  Champlain  Valley,  which 
to-day  are  so  productive  under  cultivation,  are 
accounted  for  by  the  geological  fact  that,  at  not 
a  very  remote  period,  much  of  it  was  under 
ocean  water.  The  shells  of  mollusks  are  found 
in  abundance  in  the  clays  and  sand  several  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  present  water  level.     The 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  217 

bones  of  tlie  wlialo  now  in  tlie  State  Museum 
wore  discovered  sixty  fc-ot  above  the  level  of  the 
lake.     These  rich  soils,  which  are  the  source  of 
modern  agricultural  wealth,  were  — geologically 
speaking  — recently  covered  with  the  waters  of 
the    ocean,    and    were    i)ernianently    enriched 
thereby.     Portions  of  Chittenden,  Addison,  Rut- 
land, and  Franklin  counties,  and  the  whole  of 
Grand  Isle,  share  the  benefits  of  this  creative 
cause. 


WILD    GAME. 

It  is  comparatively  but  recent  that  wild  game 
both  of  animals  and  ))irds  were  unusually  plenty 
on  Lake  Champlain  and  its   shores.     As  noted 
in  another  place  in  this  volume,  salmon  were  ex- 
ceedingly plenty  in  the  Saranac  and  other  rivers 
flowing  into  the  lake,  as  late  as  1824.     Among 
bn^ds  the  wild  pigeons  were    so  plenty  in  the 
forests  around  it  as  to  be  beyond  estimation. 
The  old  records  and  diaries  are  filled  with  men- 
tion of  them,  and  bear  ample  testimony  of  the 
astonishment  with  which  their   mimbers   filled 
the  minds  of  the  early  settlers.     In  one  of  the 
towns  the  following  record  is  to  be  found : 


218 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


'^  The  number  of  pigeons  is  immense.    Twenty- 
five  nests  are  often  found  on  one  tree.    Acres  of 
such  trees  are  to  be  seen  anywhere.     For  hun- 
dreds of  acres  the  ground  underneath  them  is 
covered   witli  tlieir  droppings  to  the  depth  of 
two  inches.     Their  noise  in  the  evening  and  at 
night  is  so  troublesome  that  people  cannot  sleep. .. 
When  the  young  are  grown  to  a  suitable  size, 
just  before  they  are  ready  to  fly,  it  is  common 
for  the  settlers  to  cut  down  the  trees  and  gather 
a  horse-load  in  a  few  minutes." 


THE    BEAVER. 

Among  the  wild  animals  once  exceedingly 
numerous  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Champlain 
were  the  otter  and  beaver.  The  one  family 
gave  its  name  to  the  longest  river  in  the  State, 
and  the  other  were  not  only  \Qry  numerous  but 
were  noted  among  dealers  in  peltry  for  their 
size  and  the  high  quality  of  their  fur.  These 
extraordinary  animals  have  been  banished  the 
larger  part  of  the  continent,  and  it  is  a  rarity  to 
see  one  even  in  the  menageries  and  the  gardens 
of  natural  history.  Only  a  few  sportsmen  even, 
probably  of  my  generation,  have  ever  been 


DU 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  219 

placed  as  to  study  the  habits  of  these  extraordi- 
nary animals ;  and  those  of  the  generation  that 
are  to  succeed  us  will  doubtless  never  be  able  by 
any  amount  of  journeying  within  the  limits  of 
the  country  to   become    personally  acquainted 
with  them.     These  facts  suggest  to  me  the  value 
of  a  note  that  shall  preserve,  in  the  best  possible 
form  of  expression,  the  knowledge  of  the  char- 
acteristics and  the  habits  of  an  animal  the  cap- 
ture of  which  has  given  such  wide  employment 
to  commerce,  assisted  pioneer  life  in  its  develop- 
ment, and  given  to  taste  and  wealth  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  coverings  ever  made  for  human 
use.     T  do  not  propose  to  trust  my  own  knowl- 
edge in  describing  this   animal,  but  will  tran- 
scribe the   best    description   I  have    ever   rend 
of  the  beaver,  as  written  by  one  of  the  early 
settlers  of  Vermont,  who  was  not  only  a  scholar 
but  a  naturalist  of  such  gifts  and  attainments 
as  few  men  enjoy.     I  refer  to  Doctor  Samuel 
Williams,  LL.D.     The  following  is  his  descrip- 
tion  of  the  beaver ;  and  beyond  what  he  has 
written  there  is  nothing  to  be  said  of  the  animal. 
"  The  American  beaver  is  between  three  and 
four  feet  in  length,  and  weighs  from  forty  to  sixty 


220 


LAKE  CHAJVIPLAIN. 


pounds.   His  head  is  like  that  of  a  rat,  inclined  to 
the  earth  ;  his  back  rises  in  an  arch  between  his 
head  and  tail.     His  teeth  are  long,  broad,  strong, 
and   sharp.     Four  of  these,  two  in  the  upper 
and  two  in  the  under  jaw,  are  called  incisors. 
These  teeth   project  one  or  two  inches  beyond 
the  jaw,  and  are  sharp,  and  curved  like  a  car- 
penter's gouge.     In  his  fore  feet  tlie  toes  are 
separate,  as  if  designed  to  answer  the  purposes 
of  fingers  and  hands.     -His  hind  feet  are  accom- 
modated with  webs,  suited    to  the  purpose  of 
swimming.     His  tail   is  a  foot   long,  an   inch 
thick,  and  five  or  six  inches  broad.     It  is  cov- 
.ered  with  scales,  and  with  a  skin  similar  to  that 
of  a  fish. 

^'  In  no  animal  does  the  social  instinct  and  habit 
appear  more  strong  or  universal  than  in  the 
beaver.  Wheresoever  a  number  of  these  ani- 
mals are  found,  they  immediately  associate  and 
combine  in  society,  to  pursue  their  common 
business  and  welfare.  Everything  is  done  by 
the  united  counsels  and  labors  of  the  whole 
community.  Their  societies  are  generally  col- 
lected together  in  the  months  of  June  and  July ; 
and  their  numbers  when  thus  collected  frequently 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  221 

amount  to  two  or  three   hundred  ;  all  of  which 
immediately  engage  in  a  joint  effort  to  promote 
the  common  business  and  safety  of  the  whole 
society ;  apparently  acting  under  a  common  in- 
clination and  direction.      When  the  beaver  is 
found  in  a  solitary  state,  he  appears  to  be  a 
timid,  inactive,  and  stupid  animal.     Instead  of 
attempting   any  important    enterprise,  he  con- 
tents himself  with  digging  a  hole  in  the  earth 
for  safety  and  concealment.     His  genius  seems 
to  be   depressed,  his  spirits  broken,  and  every- 
thing  enterprising   is   lost   in   an   attention  to 
personal  safety ;  but  he  never  loses  his  natural 
instinct  to  find  or  form  a  pond.^      When  com^ 
bined   in   society,    his   disposition    and    powers 
assume  their  natural  direction,  and  are  exerted 
to  the  highest  advantage.     Everything  is  then 
undertaken  which  the  beaver  is  capable  of  per- 
forming. 

"  The  society  of  beavers  seems  to  be  regulated 
and  governed  altogether  by  natural  dispositions 
and  laws.     Their  society,  in  all  its  pursuits  and 

1  A  yomi-  beaver  was  tamed  in  the  southern  part  of  this  State. 
He  became  quite  inoffensive,  and  without  any  disposition  to  depart! 
but  was  most  of  all  pleased  when  he  was  at  work  forniing  a  dam 
in  a  small  stream  near  the  house. 


222 


LAKE  CHAM  PLAIN. 


operations,  cippears  to  he  a  society  of  peace  and 
nuitual  aft'ection,  guided   hy  one  principle,  and 
under  tlie  same  direction.     No  contention,  dis- 
agreement, contrary  interests  or    pursuits,    are 
ever  seen  among  them;    hut   perfect   liarmony 
and   agreement   prevails    through    tluur   whole 
dominions.     The    princii)le   of    this    union  and 
regulation  is  not  the  superior  strength,  art,  or 
activity  of   any  individual.      Nothing  has  the 
appearance,  among  tliem,  of  the  authority  or  in- 
Ihience  of  a  chief  or  leader.     Their  association 
and  management  have  the  aspect  of  a  pure  and 
perfect  democracy,  founded  on  the  principle  of 
perfect     equality,    and    the    strongest'    nnitual 
attachment.     This  principle  seems  to  l)e  suffi- 
cient to  preserve  the  most  perfect  harmony,  and 
to  regulate  all  the  proceedings  of  their  largest 
societies. 

*'  When  these  animals  are  collected  together, 
their  first  attention  is  to  the  public  business  and 
affairs  of  the  society  to  which  they  helong. 
The  beavers  are  amphibious  animals,  and  must 
spend  one  part  of  their  time  in  the  water  and 
another  upon  the  hind.  In  conformity  to  this 
law  of  their  natures,  their  first  employment  is 


HISTORICAL  KEMINISCKNCIKS. 


223 


to  find  a  situation  convenient  for  both    these 
purposes.     With  tin's  view,  a  hike,  a  pond,  or  a 
running  stream  of  water  is  chosen  for  the  scene 
of  tlieir  liabitation  and  future   operations.     If 
it  be  a  hike  or  a  lujud  that  is  selected,  the  water 
is  always  of  such  depth   that  the   beavers  may 
have  sufficient  room  to  swim  under  the  ice,  and 
one  of  which  they  can  have  an  entire  and  un- 
disturbed possession.     If  a  stream  of  water  is 
chosen,  it  is  always  such  a  stream  as  will  form  a 
pond  that  shall  be  every  way  convenient  for 
their  purpose.     And  such  is  their  foresight  and 
comprehensioti  of  these  circumstances,  that  they 
never  form  an  erroneous  judgment,  or  fix  upon 
a  situation  that  will  not  answer  their  designs  and 
convenience.     Their  next  business  is  to  construct 
a  dam.     This  is  always  chosen  in  the  most  con- 
venient part  of  the  stream;  and  the  form  of  it 
is  either  direct,  circular,  or  with  angles,  as  the 
situation  and  circumstances  of  the   water  and 
land   require  ;  and  so  well  chosen  are  both  the 
place  and  the  form  of  these  dams,  that  no  engi- 
neer could  give   them  a  better   situation   and 
form  either  for  convenience,  strength,  or  dura- 
tion.     The  materials  of   w^hich  the  dc 


1; 


224 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


constructed  are  wood  and  earth.     If  there  be  a 
tree    on    the    side    of  tho   river,    which   would 
naturally  fall  across  the  stream,  several  of  the 
beavers  set  themselves,  with  great  diligence,  to 
cut  It  down  with  their  teeth.  .  Trees  to    i  .      r. 
ness  of  twenty  inches  diameter  are  thus  thiown 
across   a   stream.      They   next   gnaw   off    the 
branches   from    the  trunk,   that   the  tree  may 
assume  a  level  position.     Others,  at  the  same 
tune,  are  cutting  down  smaller  trees  and  sap- 
Imgs  from  one  to  ten  inches  diameter.     These 
are   cut   into   equal    and    convenient    lengths. 
Some  of  the  beavers  drag  these  pieces  of  wood 
to  the  side  of  the  river,  and  others  swim  with 
them  to  the  place  where  the  dam  is  to  be  built. 
As  many  as  can  find  room  are  engaged  in  sink- 
ing one  end  of  these  stakes,  and  as  many  more 
in  raising,  fixing,  and  securing  the  other  end. 
While  many  of  the  beavers  are  thus  laboring 
upon,  the  wood,  others  are  equally  engaged  in 
carrying  on  the    earthen    part   of    the    work. 
The  earth  is  brought  in  their  mouths,  formed 
into  a  kind  of  mortar  with  their  feet  and  tails, 
and   spread   over   the   vacancies    between    the' 
sticks.      Saplings    and   the   small   branches  of 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES.  225 

trees  are  twisted  and  worked  up  with  the  mud 
and  slime,  until  all  the  vacancies  are  filled  up, 
and  no  crevice  is  left  in  any  part  of  the  work 
for  the  water  to  find  a  passage  through.     The 
magnitude  and  extent  of  the  dams,  which  the 
beavers  thus  construct,  is  much  larger  than  we 
should  imagine  was  possible  to  be  effected  by 
such  laborers  or  instruments.     At  the  bottom, 
the  dam  is  from  six  to  twelve  feet  thick  ;  at  the' 
top  it  is  generally  two  or  three  feet  in  width. 
In  that  part  of  the  dam  which  is  opposed  to  the 
current,  the  stakes  are  placed  obliquely ;  but  on 
that  side  where  the  water  is  to  fall,  the  stakes 
are  placed  in  a  perpendicular  direction,  and  the 
dam  assumes  the  same  form  and  position  as  the 
stakes.     The  extent  of  these  works  is  from  fifty 
to   a   hundred  feet  in  length,  and   always    of 
such  a  height  as  to  effect  the  purposes  they 
have  in  view.     The  ponds  which  are  formed  by 
these  dams  are  of  all  dimensions,  from  four  or 
five  to  five  or  six  hundred  acres.     They  are  gen- 
erally spread  over  lands  abounding  with  trees  and 
bushes  of  the  softest  wood,  maple,  birch,  alder, 
poplar,  willow,  etc.      The   better   to   preserve 
their  dams,  the  beavers  always  leave  sluices  or 


■!   '■[llilil 


226 


LAKE  ClIAMrLAIN. 


passages  near  the  middle  for  the  redundant 
waters  to  pass  off.  These  sluices  are  generally 
about  eighteen  inches  in  width  and  depth,  and 
as  many  in  number  as  the  waters  of  the  stream 
generally  require. 

"  When  the  public  works  are  completed,  their 
domestic,  concerns  and  affairs  next  engage  their 
attention.     The   dam    is   no  sooner  completed, 
than  the  beavers  separate  into  small  bodies,  to 
build  cabins,  or  houses  for  themselves.     These 
houses  are  built  upon  piles,  along  the  borders  of 
the  pond.    They  are  of  an  oval  form,  resembling 
the  construction  of  an  haycock ;  and  they  vary 
in  their  dimensions,  from  four   to  ten  feet  in 
diameter,  according  to  the  number  of  families 
they  are  designed  to  accommodate.     They  are 
always  of  two  stories,  generally  of  three,  and 
sometimes  they  contain  four.     Their  walls  are 
from   two  to  three   feet   in   thickness,    at   the 
bottom  ;  and  are  formed  of  the  same  material 
as  the  dams.     They  rise   perpendicularly  a  few 
feet,  then  assume  a  curved  form,  and  terminate 
in  a  dome  or  vault,  which  answers  the  purpose 
of  a  roof.     These  edifices  are  built   with  much 
solidity,  and  neatness.    On  the  inward  side,  they 


HISTORICAL  KEMLNISCENCES. 


227 


are  smooth,  but  rough  on  the  outside ;  always 
impenetrable    to    the    rain,   and    of    sufficient 
strength   to  resist   the  most  impetuous  winds. 
The  lower  story  is  about  two  feet   high:    the 
second  story  has  a  floor  of  sticks,  covered  with 
mud:    the    third    story    is    divided    from    the 
second,  in  the  same  manner,  and  terminated  by 
the  roof  raised  in  the  form  of  an  arch.    Through 
each  floor,  there  is  a  communication ;   and  the 
upper  floor  is   always   above   the  level  of  the 
water,  when  it  is  raised  to  its  greatest  height. 
Each  of  these  huts  has  two  doors ;  one,  on  the 
land  side,  to  enable  them  to  go  out  and  procure 
provisions  by  land  ;    another  under  the  water, 
and  below  where  it  freezes,  to  preserve  their 
communication  with  the  pond.     If  this  at  any 
time  begins  to  be  covered  with  ice,  the  ice  is 
immediately   broken,    that   the   comnmnication 
may  not  be  cut  off  with  the  air. 

''  In  these  huts,  the  families  of  the  beavers 
have  their  residence.  The  smallest  of  their  cabins 
contain  one  family,  consisting  generally  of  five 
or  six  beavers ;  and  the  largest  of  the  buildings 
will  contain  from  twenty  to  thirty.     No  society 


0 


ttl" 


limals  can  ever  appear  better  regulated,  or 


228 


LAKK  CIIAMPLAIN. 


more  happy,  than  the  family  of  beavers.     The 
male  and  the  female  always  pair.     Their  selec- 
tion is  not  a  matter  of  chance,  or  accident ;  but 
appears  to  be  derived  from  taste,  and  mutual 
affection.     In  September,  the  happy  couple  lay 
up  their  store  of  provisions,  for  winter.     This 
consists  of  bark,  the  tender  twigs  of  trees,  and 
various  kinds  of  soft  wood.     When  their  pro- 
visions  are   prepared,  the   season  of   love  and 
repose  commences :  and  during  the  winter  they 
remain  in   theif  cabins,  enjoying  the  fruits  of 
their  labours,-  and  partaking  in  the  sweets  of 
domestic  happiness.    Towards  the  end  of  winter, 
the  females  bring  forth  their  young,  to  the  num- 
ber of  three  or  four.    Soon  after,  the  male  retires 
to   gather   fish,  and   vegetables,  as   the  spring 
opens;   but   the   moUier   remains  at   home,  to 
nurse  and  rear  up  the  offspring,  until  they  are 
able  to  follow  their  dams.     The  male  occasion- 
ally returns,  but  not  to  tarry,  until  the  fall  of 
the  year.     But  if  any  injury  is  done  to  their 
public  works,  the   whole   society  are  soon  col- 
lected, and  join  all  their  forces  to  repair  the 
injury,  which  affects  their  commonwealth. 
"  Nothing  can  exceed  the  ^eace  and  regularity 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


229 


which  prevails  in  the  families,  and  through  the 
whole   commonwealth   of   these   animals.      No 
discord  or  contention    ever   appears  in  any  of 
their  fahiilies.     Every    beaver    knows   his  own 
apartment,  and  store   house  ;    and  there  is  no 
pilfering  or   robbing   from   one  another.      The 
male  and  the  female  are  mutually  attached  to, 
and    never    prove    unfriendly,   or    desert    one 
another.      Their   provisions   are   collected,  and 
expended,  without  any  dissension.     Each  knows 
its  own  family,  business,  and  property ;  and  they 
are  never   seen   to  injure,  oppose,   or  interfere 
with  one  another.     The  same  order  and  tran- 
quillity   prevail    through    the    commonwealth. 
Different  societies  of  beavers  never  make  war 
upon  one  another,  or  upon  any  other  animals. 
When  thoy  are  attacked  by  their  enemies,  they 
instantly  plunge  into  the  water,  to  escape  their 
pursuit:    and  when   they  cannot    escape,  they 
fall  an  easy  sacrifice. 

"  In  the  arts  necessary  for  their  safety,  the 
beavers  rise  to  great  eminence.  The  situation, 
direction,  form,  solidity,  beauty,  and  durability 
of  their  dams,  are  equal  to  anything  of  the  kind, 
which  has  ever  been  performed  by  m-an.     The^^ 


m 


i;  iifii  1 


230 


LAKE  nilAMl'LAIN. 


alw.ays  form  a  riglit  judcrment,  wliic^li  way  the 
troe  will  ImI]  ;  and  wlion  it  is  nearly  cut  down, 
tlicy  appoint  one  of  tlioir  number,  to  give  notice 
by  a  stroke  of  his  tail,  when   it  begins  to  fall. 
Witli  their  tails,  they  measure  the  lengths  of 
tlieir  dams,  of  tlie  stakes  they  are  to  use,  of  a 
breach  that  is  made  in  their  works,  and  of  the 
length  of  the  timber  that  is  necessary  to  repair 
it.    When  an  enemy  approaclies  their  dominions, 
tlie  beaver  which  makes  the  discovery,  by  strik- 
ing on  the  water  with  his  tail,  gives  notice  to 
the  whole  village  of  the  approaching  danger; 
and   all   of    them    instantly   plunge    into    the 
water.      And   when    the    hunters   are    passing 
through  their  country,  some  of   their  number 
appear  to  be  sentinels,  to  give  notice  of  their 
approach. 

"  The  colour  of  the  beaver  is  different,  accord- 
ing to  the  different  climates,  which  they  in- 
habit. In  the  most  northern  parts,  they  are 
generally  black;  in  Vermont  they  are  brown; 
and  their  color  becomes  lighter  as  we  approach 
towards  the  south.  Their  fur  is  of  two  sorts, 
all  over  their  bodies.  That  which  is  longest,  is 
generally  about  an  inch  long,  but  on  the  back 


IIISTOIIK'AI.   KKMINISCENCKS. 


231 


it  soniotiinoH  exteuds  to  two  inches,  gradually 
shortening  towards  the  head  and  tail.  This 
part  is  coarse,  and  of  little  use.  The  other  part 
of  the  fur  consists  of  a  very  ihu)  and  thick 
down,  about  three  quarters  of  an  inch  long,  so 
soft  that  it  feels  like  silk,  and  is  that  which  is 
used  in  manufactories.  Castor,  of  so  much  use 
in  medicine,  is'  produced  from  the  body  of  the 
beaver.  It  is  contained  in  four  bags,  in  the 
lower  belly. 

'fThe  largest  of  these  animals,  of  which  I 
have  any  certain  information,  weighed  sixty- 
three  pounds  and  an  half ;  but  it  is  only  in  a 
situation  remote  from,  and  undisturbed  by  the 
frequent  appearances  of  men,  that  they  attain 
their  greatest  magnitude,  or  their  highest  per- 
fection of  society.  The  beaver  has  deserted  all 
the  southern  parts  of  Vermont,  and  is  now  to 
be  found  only  in  the  most  northern  and  uncul- 
tivated parts  of  the  State." 


VERMONT   MARBLES. 

Among  all  the  ornamental  stones  used  in 
architecture,  either  ancient  or  modern,  not  one 
is  more  prized  by  wealth,  knowledge,  and  taste, 


232 


LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 


than  marble ;  and  in  no  plaQe  on  the  globe  has 
nature  made  so  extensive  and  rich  a  deposit  as 
along  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Champlain. 
Here  she  has  placed  the  purest  white  and  the 
dunnest  black,  the  blue,  the  gray,  the  rose  and 
pink,  almost  side  by  side.  Between  the  white 
and  black  over  forty  shades  are  grouped.  Every 
color  and  tint  required  for  interior  embellish- 
ment, from  the  delicate  shade  of  the  sea-pink 
shell  to  the  flaming  splendor  of  sapphire,  from 
snow  to  jet ;  the  neutral  grays,  the  cerulean 
blues,  the  mottled,  the  veined,  the  composite; 
all  are  here.  What  unchiselled  vases,  what 
unhewn  statues,  what  unshaped  monuments, 
what  dormant  shafts  and  unraised  columns, 
what  mansions,  palaces,  and  sovereign  capitols, 
are  lying  unbuilded  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  awaiting  the  word  that  shall  shape  them 
to  fit  proportion,  and  set  them  to  be  admired  of 
all  and  stand  until  they  crumble,  in  the  light  of 
day  ! 

The  development  of  the  marble  industry  in 
Vermont  might  have  been  far  more  rapid  than 
it  has  been,  and,  vast  as  it  now  is,  much  more 
so,  had  it  not   been   for   that    miserable   habit 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


233 


which  has  ever  dung  to  Americans  of  estimat- 
ing a  foreign,  imported  product  of  more  value 
than  the  native  and  competing  "one.  In  refer- 
ence to  tlie  introduction  and  use  of  American 
marble,  this  unpatriotic  and  wretched  habit  has 
exerted  a  most  injurious  influence.  When  Ver- 
mont marljle  was  first  offered  in  competition 
with  the  foreign,  there  were  few  who  Avere  will- 
ing even  to  test  its  vah\e  or  to  admit  that  it  had 
any,  especially  as  answering  the  requirements  of 
the  higher  grades  of  use  and  excellence. 

Its  purity  of  color  could  not  be  questioned,  for 
when  compared  with  imported  stones  the  gazer's 
eye  could  but  see  its  high  quality.  Nor  could 
one  deny  that  its  grn-a  was  fine  or  that  it 
was  susceptiljle  of  the  most  beautiful  polish. 
Thus  from  one  position  after  another  were  its 
opponents  driven  until  it  was  finally  conceded 
tliat  comparative  a])i]ity  to  stand  exposure  to 
the  elements  must  decide  its  relative  rank. 
That  settled  it,  for  the  Italian  marbles  cannot  re- 
sist the  disintegrating  forces  of  our  climate  like 
the  native  ones  that  are  quarried  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Cham  plain. 

Rutland  has  long  been  the  centre  of  this  vast 


234 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


I  ■ 


industry,  so  vast  that  no  one  can  conceive  of  it 
unless  he  visits  the  quarries  and  sees  for  him- 
self. The  pioneer  firm  is  that  of  Sheldon  & 
Company,  of  West  Rutland.  It  began  opera- 
tions in  the  spring  of  1850,  and  from  a  small 
plant  has  grown  into  mammoth  proportions. 
Its  capacity  was  such  as  far  back  as  1875-76 
that  it  was  able  to  deliver  to  the  national  gov- 
ernment for  use  in  the  national  cemeteries  two 
hundred  and  fortij  thousand  headstones  !  This 
one  contract  involved  the  shipment  of  six  thou- 
sand tons  of  sawn  marble  each  year.  And  this 
they  were  able  to  do  ivithout  interfering  with 
their  regular  husiness. 

To  many  of  those  who  shall  visit  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  an  excursion  of  a  day  to  the  vast  marble 
quarries  of  West  Rutland,  Sutherland  Falls, 
and  S wanton,  would  be  the  most  instructive 
and  entertaining  they  might  take.  It  would 
interest  them  to  see  whence  are  to  come  the 
monuments,  the  statues,  and  the  palaces  of  the 
future,  as  grief,  art,  and  wealth  shall  call  them 
forth.  The  manufacture  of  marble,  by  which 
is  meant  the  preparation  of  the  original  block 
for  its  destined  purpose,  is  a  most  interesting 


HISTORICAL  REMINISCENCES. 


285 


study.  To  see  with  one's  own  eyes  how  the 
''  angel  hidden  in  the  stone  "  is  summoned  forth 
and  made  to  stand  before  the  gazer  in  all  its 
celestial  beauty  is  an  object  lesson  of  the  rarest 
sort.  If  you  have  a  day  to  spare,  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  visit  the  marble  quarries  of  these 
noted  localities. 


11 

n 


236 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


AUTHOR'S    NOTE. 


ALTHOudir  it  is  not  generally  known,  never- 
theless it  is  held  ])y  those  who  have  knowledge 
of   the  matter,   that  no  body  of  water  in  the 
country   affords   better  sport    for  anglers  than 
Lake  Champlain.     That   the  subject  might  be 
intelligently  and  attractively  treated,  we  enlisted 
the   co-operation  of    Mr.  A.  Nelson  Cheney  of 
Glens  Falls,  N.Y.,  whose  volume  on  "  Fishing 
with  the  Fly,"  and  many  contributions  to  the 
press,  have  given  him  a  deserved  reputation  in 
angling  matters  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
caused  him  to  be  honored  as  an  authority  on  all 
subjects  connected  with  the  fish  and  fishing  of 
America.     His  essay,  at  our  request,  is  written 
from  the  standpoint  of  personal  knowledge  and 
experience,  and  will  be  read  with  delight  by  all 
who  are  lovers  of  rod  and  reel.     May  it  not  be 
hoped  that  some  day,  not  remote,  he  will  favor 
the  country  with  a  volume  on  fish  and  fishing 
on  Lake  Champlain  ?     It  is  an  ample  theme  for 
a  pen  like  his,  and  we  know  no  other  writer  in 
the  countrv  who  could  do  the  work  as  he  could 
do  it. 


GAME  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


237 


THE   GAME   FISH  AND  FISHING  OF  LAKE 

CHAMI'LAIN. 

By  A.   NELSON   CHENEY. 


The  history,  the  romance,  and  tlie  legends  of 
Lake  Champlain  have  met  with  greater  or  less 
recognition   at    the  hands   of   those  who    have 
striven    to    make   the    fair   fame   of    the    lake 
known  to  the  world,  hut  to  the  angler  familiar 
with  its  waters  it    is  often  surprising  that  its 
fish  and  its  fishing  have  hcen  passed  over  with 
scant   courtesy.     Particularly  is   this   the  case 
when  it  is  considered  that  the  lake  which  bears 
the  name  of  Samuel  Champlain  alfords  some  of 
the  very  best  angling  with  rod  and  line  that  is 
to  be  found  in  all  this  broad  land,  remarkable 
as  it  is  for  prolificness  of  species  and  prodigality 
in  numbers  of  what  are   known  to  the   spo>'ts- 
men  as  game  fish.     True  it  is,  lamentably  true, 
th.'it  the  kingly  sahnon  no  longer  finds  its  way 
from  the   sea   through    the   St.   Lawrence  and 


S      ! 


238 


LAKK  (niAMrLAIN. 


Richelieu  rivers  to  the  streams  flowing  into  the 
hike  on  either  side  ;  the  brook-trout,  fontlnalisy 

—  the  prince  of  the  fountains,  —  if  it  ever  was 
known  in  the  hike,  has  taken  its  departure  with 
the  French  name,  //v/rrAsm,. applied  to  the  water; 
the  lake-trout,  that  the  Indians  called  Namatj- 
cash,  has  also  disappeared  as  elfectively  as  the 
Iroquois  name  of  the  lake,  Cankukrl  Guarunte 

—  "  the  lake  that  is  the  gate  of  the  country  "  ; 
but  with  the  departure  of  the  sdlinonldiB  —  fish 
of  royal  lineage  —  the  gate  was  left  ajar  that 
strangers  might  enter  the  water  of  promise,  and 
there  remained  behind  and  took  deep  root  other 
fish  less  aristocratic,  but  sweet  of  flesh,  game 
on  the  hook,  fruitful  of  increase,  strong  to  re- 
sist murder,  outrage,  and  untimely  death  by 
net,  spear,  and  torch  and  other  engines  of 
destruction  that  have  made  the  salmon  family 
but  a  memory.  To-day  these  hardy,  fighting, 
gamy  fish  abound  in  the  lake,  thrive  and  mul- 
tiply, giving  pleasure  and  healtli  to  thousands 
who  seek  their  capture  ;  and  who  shall  say  it  is 
not  the  survival  of  the  fittest  ? 

Approaching   the   lake    from   the   south,  its 
appearance  is  not  inviting.     The  marshy  shores 


GAME   FISH    AND   FISHING. 


239 


and  the  water,  thick  and  discolored  as  it  is  by 
washing  against  banks  of  clay  that  hold  it  in 
check,  are  not  pleasing  to  one  who  has  angled 
in  limpid  waters  framed  in  pebbly  shores  and 
backed  by  the  green  of  forests ;  so  many  an- 
angler  has  condenmed  the  lake  and  turned  back 
at  the  sight  of  its  "  tail." 

It  is  strange,  but  a  fact,  that  people  living 
within  fifty  miles  of  Lake  ('bamplain  speak  of 
its  waters  as  muddy.  Tbey  do  not  know  it; 
«nd  it  shall  be  our  pleasure  to  introduce  them, 
and  we  hope  others,  to  some  of  the  })eauties  and 
attractions  of  this  grand  sheet  of  water  —  a 
Mecca  for  anglers. 

The  fish  that  now  holds  first  place  in  the 
waters  of  the  lake,  and  in  the  esteem  of  the 
angler  as  a  rod  fish,  is  the  small-mouth  l)lack 
bass,  Microjjtcriis  dolomieu.  The  large-mouth 
black  bass,  or  Oswego  bass,  MlvropteruH  sal- 
moides,  is  also  found  liere,  l)ut  it  inhabits  reedy, 
marshy  bays  and  creeks,  and  is  not  sought  by 
the  angler,  so  that  hereafter  by  1)1  ack  bass  we 
shall  mean  the  small-mouth.  This  fish  loves 
the  rocks,  gravel,  sand,  and  cle.ar  water,  and  in 
the  lake  it  finds  such  an  abundance  of  suitable 


240 


LAKE  CIIAMPLAIN. 


food  tliat,  fishing  for  black  bv^ss  from  Maine  to 
Michigan  and  from  Canada  to  Virginia,  we  have 
not  found  its  superior,  and  scarcely  its  equal, 
for  the  table;  and  its  game  qualities  are  not 
exceeded  by  the  black  bass  of  any  other  waters. 
A  bass  hooked  while  the  writer  was  fishing  off 
Wood's   Island,  near   St.  Albans    Bay,  jumped 
clear  of  the  water  seven    times   before   it  was 
brought  to    the    landing-net.     Tliere    are   hun- 
dreds of  acres  of  shoals  in  the  lake,  affording: 
the  very  best  possible   breeding-grounds  for  the 
bass,   and,  with   anything    like    moderation    in 
fishing  and  a  due  regard  for  the  close  season, 
its  black-bass  fishing  should  always  be  of  the 
best.      The   black    bass    is    the    game    fish   of 
the  people,  because  its  haunts  are  accessible  in 
waters  of  civilization,  waters  plouglied  by  crafts 
of  commerce  as  well  as  of   pleasure,  and  it  is 
found  at  its  best  in  broad    lakes    and    miglity 
rivers,  where   the    trout    of    mountain    streams 
and  secluded  forest  lakes  would  sicken  and  die, 
harried    by    revolving    propellers    and    turning 
paddle-wheels.     Being  a    spring-spawning   fish, 
the  eggs  of  the  black  bass  hatch  quickly,  and  as 
the  spawning-beds  and  hj,  Avhen  hatched,  are 


GAME  FISH  AM)   FLSlllXG. 


241 


guarded  by  the  parent  fish,  the  young  black 
bass  are  not  subjected  to  casualties  that  threaten 
the  extermination  of  other  species  of  game 
fish.  Taking  -fly  or  bait  boldly  ;  fighting  des- 
perately when  hooked ;  leaping  from  the  water 
like  the  salmon  and  the  tarpon;  toothsome 
when  prepared  for  the  table,  Nature  evidently 
intended  the  black  bass  to  be,  as  it  is  now  gen- 
erally accepted,  the  universal  game  fish  of  the 
United  States  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

At  the  lower  or  northern  end  of  the  lake, 
east  of  tlie  islands  North  and  South  Hero,  or 
Grand  Isle,  as  the  southernmost  of  the  Hero 
Islands  is  called;  south  of  McQuam  Bay  and 
north  of  tlie  sandbar  bridge,  is  a  portion  of  the 
lake,  about  twenty-one  miles  long  north  and 
south  and  five  miles  wide,  which  is  very  like  a 
lake  of  itself,  as  it  has  but  two  comparatively 
narrow  openings,  the  Gut  and  Alburgh  Passage, 
into  the  main  lake,  to  which  anglers  have  given 
the  title  Great  Back  Bay. 

This  great  bay  is  referred  to  with  much 
justice  as  the  home  of  the  black  bass.  Within 
its  confines  are  a  dozen  islands,  and  bars,  shoals, 
or  reefs  which  cannot  be  numbered.     On    the 


242 


I.AKK   C'lIAIMIM.AI?;. 


north    is  Miasisquoi    Bay,    which    is    ovidontly 
the  winter  resort  for  many  of  the  lislies  of  the 
hike,  hecaiise  tliere  tliey  find  water  of  a  higlier 
tenipeniture  than  in   the  lake  itself.     This  hay 
is  not  only  a  winter  resort  and  feedinix-uroimd 
for  ^anie  fishes,  hnt  it  is  a  hrcediiio-irronnd   for 
fish   food.     The  water  of  Back   Bay  is  as  clear 
almost  as  the  water  of  famed  liake  George,  and 
has  a  depth  of  over  one  hnndred  and  fifty  feet, 
according  to  the  government-  charts,  although 
the  average  depth  is  perliajjs  ahoiit    fifty  feet, 
while  there  are  acres  of  slioals  and  bars  with 
water  from  five  to  twenty  feet  deep  over  them. 
Mt.  Mansfield  and  Camel's  llnmp  look  down 
on  the  bay  from   the    Vermont    side,  and    Mt. 
Marcy,    White    Face,    and    other    Adirondack 
mountains  look  down  from  the  New  York  side, 
so  that  altogether  thery  is  a  vastness  abont  tlu^ 
scene  which    is    impressive.     The    islands   and 
the  shores  of  the  B;ick  Bay  furnish  fine  camping 
sites,  and   there  are  hotel  accommodations  for 
those  wdio  object  to  an   outing  under  canvas. 
The  fish  laws  of  Vermont,  which  obtain  on  the 
waters  of  Back  Bay,  make  the  legal  season  for 
black-bass  fislnng  from  Juno  1  to  P'ebruary  1; 


(iAMK   FISH   AND   i-ISIUNC;. 


243 


but  no  baas  may  be  captured  and  retained  less 
than  ten  incbo.s  in  length. 

June  is  tlio  season  for  fly-fisliing,  for  at  that 
time  the  l)asa  are  on  tlie  shores  and  in  shallow 
water;  but  later  in  the  season  if  one  casts  a  fly 
at   nightfall   or  early   in    the    morning  on   the 
shallow  water  over  sandl)ars  and  shoals,  where 
the  bass  come  to  feed,  reasona})le  success  may 
result.      For  bait-lishing  with    miunows,  grass- 
hoppers, crickets,  frogs  or  (n-awfisli,  a  rocky  or 
pebbly  shoal  is  selected,  whore  the  water  is  from 
ten  to  twenty  feet  deep,  and  there  tlie  boa>-^  is 
anchored.      Tlie   bass  of    Lake    Champhiin   are 
caught  in  remarkably  shallow  water,  and  only 
in  the  month  of  August  is  it  necessary  to  resort 
to  the  greater  depth  of  water  ment  ioned.    At  all 
times  bass  may  be  caught  in  very  shallow  water 
by  fishing  on  the  bars,  and  shoals  before  day- 
light in  the  morning  and  after  dark  at  night. 
This  is  not  as  pleasant  for  the  angler  as  good 
daylight,  but  it  secures  large  fish.     A  leaf  from 
my  fishing  journal   Avill   give  a  case  in  point. 
When   first  T  fislied  the    waters  of  Back  Bay, 
I   found    it  -customary   with    the    anglers   as- 
sembled at  a  favorite  resort  on  the  shore  to  eat 


♦     M 


1.M4 


I-VKF-:   (I  I  AM  PLAIN. 


a  hMsuroly  hroakfast  .and  got  on  the  water  about 
lialf-p;ist  Hoven  or  oiglit   o'clock.     The  bay  ia  a 
place  of  magnificent  distancen,  as  it  requires  a 
pull  of  three  or  four  miles  for  the  boatman  to 
reach  the  fishing  points  most  in  favor,  so  that  an 
hour  and  a  half  more  was  rcMpdred   before  the 
bait  was  oH\>red  to  the  (ish.     This  was  contrary 
to   all    teachings    which    point    to    suc(;ess    in 
angling,  or  in  other  things,  and,  although  the 
landlord    informed    me    that    T    was    violating 
tradition,  and  the  boatman  told  mo  a  bass  never 
had  been  taken  in  the  lake  at  such  a  heathenish 
hour,  T  ordered   my  boat  to  be  wndy  an  hour 
before  daybreak  on  a  certain    morning.     I   do 
not  think  1  realized  before  how  nuich '^sand  " 
it  required  to  fly  in  the  face  of  tradition,  upset 
custom,    and    do    in    Rome    what    the    Romans 
said,  with  a  satisfied  smile  of  superiority,  would 
bring  me   rich,  dewy,  rosy  experience,  but  no 
fish.     When  1  came   in   that   morning,  only  a 
little  late  for  the  regular  breakfast,  there  must 
have  been  something  in  the  appearance  of  the 
string  of  black    bass  that  my  boatman  placed 
with  some  pride  on   the   grass  before  the  hotel 
door,  either  the  number  of  them  or  their  size. 


(;amk  risir  and  ki,siiin(;. 


246 


that  caiisod  tin;  UniriMns  to  tliink  that  wliile 
tho  very  early  morning  air  was  certainly  not 
good  to  prolotig  th(i  life  of  a  hig  hluck  bass,  it 
niiglit  be  of  benefit  to  the  angler.  This  is 
merely  conjeelure;  but  a  few  mornings  later, 
when  my  boatman,  Warren  (JreencN  called  me 
at  three  o'clock  a.  m.,  he  whis[)ere(l  through  the 
half-open  door :  "'Joe  Armstrong  got  up  when 
T  did,  and  it  looks  as  though  his  man  was  going 
a-fisliing." 

liefore  I  fmisluHl  dressing  and  made  a  cup  of 
cofTee  over  a  spirit-lamp,  Warren  was  again  at 
my  door  to  say,  "Two  boats  have  started 
already,  and  two  other  guides  are  np  and  get- 
ting their  boats  ready."  East  of  Wood's 
Island  is  a  vast  sand  shoal,  coiKvshaped,  with 
the  island  for  its  base,  and  the  apex  in  the 
direction  of  the  rising  sun.  At. the  point  of  the 
"  bar,"  as  the  shoal  is  called,  the  water  drops 
suddenly  to  about  fifteen  feet  in  de})th,  as  it 
likewise  does  on  the  north  side,  but  on  the  bar 
itself  the  water  is  scarcely  more  than  six  feet 
deep.  Just  at  the  point  of  the  bar  the  fishing 
is  considered  best,  particularly  if  there  is  a  cur- 
rent.    This  current  is  made  by  the  wind  blow- 


246 


LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. 


ing  several  days  from  north  or  south  and  piling 
up-  the  water  in  the  opposite  end  of  the  bay, 
when   it   sets   back    to   its    normal,  condition, 
producing   a   decided   flow   like   a   river.     The 
bass  are  on   the  watch  for  any  food  that  may 
drift  along  past  the  point,  and  to  strike  them 
at  such  a  time  means  a  big  bag  of  fine  fish. 
The  point  of  the  bar  was  supposed  to  be  fully 
ripe  for  fishing  the  morning  that  Warren-  was 
impatient  because  I  waited  for  my  cup  of  coffee. 
The  time  was  the  10th  of  August,  and  when  we 
put  out  from  the  boat-house  it  was  in  the  dark- 
ness which  precedes   the   dawn;    and   Warren 
observed  that  we    would    reach   the   bar   long 
before  we  could  see   the   shore   landmarks  by 
which  to  locate  the  point;  but  he  thought  he 
could  "  hit  it  pretty  close  in  the  dark."     As  we 
neared  the  bar  two  boats  could  be  seen  dimly, 
anchored   about   where   we   judged    the    point 
should  be ;  but  Warren  whispered  that  he  did 
not  think  either  boat  was  over*  just  the  right 
spot,  and  1  hastily  baited  my  hook  with  a  grass- 
hopper, as  Warren  peered  here  and  there  ahead 
of  the  boat,  hoping  to  see  something  to  guide 
him.  to  the  location  we  were  socking.     I  cast  my 


GAME  FISH  AND  FISIIIXG. 


247 


'hopper  on  the  water,  dragging  it  behind  the 
boat,  when  suddenly  it  was  snapped  up  by  a 
hungry  ba§s.      And  I  turned   to  Warren  and 
told   him   to  drop  anchor  quickly  and  let  the 
boat  swing  back  with  the  current  about  fifteen 
feet.     There  was  a  splash  as  the  anchor  went 
down   at   the   boAv,   and   another   as   the   bass 
jumped  at  the  stern,  and  the  boat  dropped  back 
the  length  of  the  slack-rope  as  Warren  stepped 
toward  me  with  the  landing-net.     The  bass  was 
now  in,  now  out  of  the  water,  but  neither  of  us 
could  see  the  fish  when  it  was  out  any  more 
than  when  it  was  in,  and  I  finally  reeled  it  to 
the  boat,  and  the  net  was  placed  under  it  by  an 
exercise   of  faith— a  three  and  one-half  pound 
fish,  just  the  fighting  size.      The  current  was 
strong  and  the  bass  greedy,  for  another  'hopper 
on  the  hook  was  taken  as  quickly  as  the  first, 
and  the  bass  as  quickly  lost  from  not  being  well 
hooked.     There  was  no  sound  of  revelry  from 
either  of  the  other  boats  as  I  hooked  the  third 
bass,  which  came  to  the  net  after  a  struggle, 
and  I  thought  we  might  wait  for  more  light, 
which  shortly  came  stealing  up  over  the  Green 
Mountains,  faintly,  but  sufficient  to  show  the 


248 


LAKE  CIIAIMPLATN. 


bass  wlien  liooked  and  led  to  the  net.     Before 

the  sun  fairly  appeared  above  the  bills,  I  noticed 

the  liglit  color  of  the  bass,  which  was  evidence 

that   the   fish  liad  been   on   the;  white  sand  all 

night  (a  bass  will  quickly  take  on  the  general 

color  of  the  bottom  on  which  it  rests),  and  tliat 

we  were  fishing  directly  over  the  bar.     ^riiis  T 

remarked  to  Wai-ren,  and  he  glanced   around, 

chuckled     quietly,     shut    one    eye    knowingly, 

jerked    his    h'ead    over    his    left    shoulder,    and 

said,  — 

"Do  you   see   the  big   pine  square  over  the 
north  gable  of  the  baiii  on  the  island  and  the 
notch   m   the   hill    in  line  with    the  point  on 
Potter  Island  ?  "     Sure  enough       Tbe  boat  was 
anchoi'od  as  fairly  over  the  point  of  the  bar  as 
Warren  could   have  anchored   it  at  high  noon 
with    the    sun   shining  and   all    the   landmarks 
located    with    a    theodolite.       The    other    boats 
were  taking  an   occasional  bass,  but  they  had 
missed   the   point    and    tliey  knew  it  only  too 
well.     A  bass  that  proved  to  weigh  four  and  a 
quarter  pounds  when   it  was  landed,  took   my 
bait,   and,  as  he   jumped  from  the  water  and 
showed  his  dark  green  sides  in  the  sunlight,  I 


GAME  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


249 


said,  "  Here  is  a  bass  that  has  just  come  on  to 
the  bar  from  the  grass  for  its  breakfast,  and 
now  we  shall  have  to  wait  for  such  as  come 
straggling  along  to  feed  ;  we  have  cleaned  the 
bar  of  such  bass  as  have  been  here  all  night." 
This  proved  true,  and  after  waiting  for  a  time 
we  moved  about  one  hundred  yards  to  a  patch 
of  grass  bottom  with  an  occasional  water-weed 
growing  near  to  the  surface.  Casting  the 
baited  hook  over,  there  was  no  response  on  the 
part  of  fish  of  any  kind,  for  this  is  famous  yel- 
low-perch ground,  and  I  concluded  there  was  a 
big  bass  "  there  or  thereabouts  "  which  held  the 
^erch  in  reserve  and  made  them  backward 
about  coming  forward.  The  diagnosis  was 
correct,  for  there  was  a  bite,  and  the  next 
moment  a  "  barn-door  "  (any  one  who  fishes  in 
Lake  Chapiplain  will  soon  learn  that  a  "  barn- 
door" is  a  black  bass  of  the  largest  calibre) 
was  shaking  its  head  in  the  air  with  the  hook 
fast  in  its  jaw.  As  Warren  put  the  net  under 
the  fish  and  brought  it  into  the  boat,  he  said  it 
was  a  ''  barn-door,"  sure  enough ;  and  as  he 
hooked  the  scales  through  its  mouth  and  they 
marked  lull  live  pounds,  he  added,  '•  That's  'old 


250 


LAKE   CIIAMPLAIN. 


glory,'  the  biggest  bciss  taken  in  the  bay  this 
year."  When  we  went  in,  we  had  twenty-six 
black  bass,  which  weighed  fifty-six  pounds  ten 
ounces,  and  eighteen  of  them  weighed  just  ten 
pounds  less,  or  forty-six  pounds  ten  ounces. 

North  of  Diadama  Island  is  another  shoal,  of 
pebbles  instead  of  sand,  and  here  there  is  ex- 
cellent bass-fishmg,  particularly  at  night  or 
morning.  West  of  Diadama  is  a  clump  of  big 
rocks,  and  west  of  Diadama  shoal  is  another, 
where  as  good  fishing  may  be  found  as  any  one 
could  wish.  Gull  Rock  and  Long  Reef,  and  the 
middle  reef  between  Gull  Rock  and  the  north 
end  of  Butler's  Island,  and  in  the  cove  at  the 
south  of  Butler's  Island,  is  good  fishing.  Pop 
Squash  furnishes  fine  fishing  also,  but  one 
should  have  a  boatman  to  show  him  a  score 
of  good  places  where  large  bass  and  plenty  of 
them  may  be  taken. 

The  yellow  perch  from  this  pure,  clear  water 
make  an  excellent  pan  fish ;  they  are  really 
sweeter  than  the  bass  (if  I  may  be  forgiven  the 
heresy),  and  they  can  be  taken  in  large  numbers 
wherever  there  is  grass  bottom  or  weeds.     It  is 

thft   nnstnm    tc\   dpsnisp   f.ViA   vAllrki^ir   r^ovnli    nrlipi^n 


GAME   FISH   AND   FISIIINrr. 


2.51 


tlie  black-bass  fisliing  is  so  good  as  at  Back  Bay, 
but,  feeling  hungry  for  perch  one  clay,  I  went 
with  Warren  to  the  grass  where  the  five-pound 
bass  was  taken,  and  caught  seventy-six  large 
perch,  and,  as  the  Indian  said  of  his  venison 
killed  out  of  season,  "  call  it  bulldog  or  moun- 
tain sheep,  it  is  good  to  eat." 

A  fish  that  is  esteemed  by  some  more  highly 
for  the  table  than  the  black  bass  is  the  pike- 
perch,  or  wall-eyed  pike,  Sflzostedium  vitreum. 
The    pike-perch    has    a   cousin,   S.    Canadense, 
popularly  known  as  Sanger,  or  Sandpike,  more 
beautiful  in  coloring  than  the  pike-perch,  but 
smaller,   as  it    rarely  grows    to  exceed    fifteen 
inches,    while    the    pike-perch    grows    to    ten 
pounds  and  upward.      Both    of   these   fish  are 
found  in  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  legal  season 
for  catching  them  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
black   bass.      Pike-perch   are  frequently   taken 
while   fishing   for   black   bass,  but   to  make  a 
business  of  catching  them  the  best  time  is  June 
and  late  in  the  fall.     They  are  caught  by  still- 
fishing  with  live  minnows.     Even  in  June  and 
late  autumn,  the  fishing  for  pike-perch  is  not  as 
iiood  as  it  is  through  the  ice  in  winter,  for  they 


252 


LAKE    CIIAMrLAIN. 


go   on   the    sandbars   in   groat   numbers   three 
montlis  before  the  spawning  season,  which  is  in 
March  and  April,  and  there  remain  until  they 
spawn  and  disperse.      They   are   very  prolific, 
casting   two  or  three  hundred   thousand  eggs, 
and  they  spawn  when  they  reach  a  pound  in 
weight.     Like  all  spring-spawning  fish,  except 
the  black  bass,  their  eggs  furnish  food  for  other 
predaceous   fishes.      The  black   bass   is  an  ex- 
ception because,  as  alreauj^  stated,  they  guard 
their  spawning-beds;   the  bullhead  and  sunfish 
being  the  only  otiicr  fish  that  exercise  this  care 
over  eggs  and  young.     A  fish  that  can  scarcely 
be  called  a  game  fish,  yet  is  taken  occasionally 
on  the  hook  in  Lake  Champlain,  strange  as  the 
statement   may   ai)pear,   is   the   lake   shad,  so- 
called,  but  wliich  really  is  the  whitefish  of  the 
great  lakes,   Coregonus  dupciformis.     This  fish 
is   protected    by   the    laws   of   Vermont    from 
November  1  to  November   15,  and  the  law  is 
about  as  eii'ective  as   that  which   protects  the 
black  bass,  for  the  whitefish  spawns  as  late  as 
the  first  week  in  December,  the  greater  number 
spawning   from  the   15th  of   November  to  the 
1st  of   Decembor,  and  the  bhick   bass  spawns 


GAME  FISH   AND   FISHING. 


253 


during  nearly  the  entire  niontli  of  June.  The 
laws  mean  well,  but  do  not  actually  cover  what 
they  are  intended  to  cover,  viz.,  the  breeding- 
season.  It  is  not  so  unusual  for  whitefish  to 
take  a  baited  hook  as  it  might  be  supposed. 
They  are  caught  in  winter  through  the  ice  in 
one  or  more  of  the  Adirondack  lakes,  in  such 
numbers  as  to  make  it  worth  the  while  fishing 
for  them,  and  one  angler  has  taken  a  number  in 
Back  Bay  in  summer,  and  he  told  me  that  with 
their  delicate  mouths  they  were  not  an  insignifi- 
cant fish  on  the  rod  ;  and  certainly  there  is  no 
more  delicately  delicious  fish  on  the  table  than 
a  whitefish  fresh  from  the  water.  The  masca- 
longe,  Esox  nohilior,  the  nobler  pike,  is  some- 
times taken  in  Lake  Champlain,  and  if  the  New 
York  Fish  Commission  is  successful  in  culti- 
vating the  fish  artificially  at  Chautauqua  Lake, 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  same  work  may  be 
taken  up  at  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  water 
made  to  teem  with  this  great  game  fish.  There 
are  parts  of  the  lake  admirably  suited  to  this 
fish,  and  it  is  well  worth  the  experiment  to 
make  it  common  in  the  water. 

The    pike,    Esox    luciua,    commonly    called 


2:>4 


LAKE   CIIAMrLAIX. 


pickerel,    also    called    fresh-water   shark,  slimy 
snake,  and  other  choice  names,  is  onmipresent 
in   Lake    Champlain.     It    hohs    np  when    least 
expected,  and  a  hook  baited  whJi  a  live  minnow 
is  never  safe  from  its  long  jaws.     A  gentleman 
casting  a  %  on  Diadama  bar   for   black   bass 
announced  to  a  friend  who  was  with  him,  that 
there  was  a  supreme  satisfaction  in  %-fishing 
for  bass,  for  even  if  the  bass  did  not  rise  to  the 
%  the  pickerel  would   not,  and   if   there  was 
any  particular  fish  that   he   cordially   disliked 
it  was  a  pickerel.     The  lirst  fish  that  he  hooked 
was   a   ])ickerel    that   tore   his   fly   in    tatters. 
While  the  pickerel  is  generally  regarded  with 
disfavor  by  those  who  seek  the  black   bass,  it 
must  be  confessed  that  a  pickerel   from    clear, 
cold  water  in  the  autumn,  if  properly  dressed, 
by  some  other  fellow,  makes  good  eating  ;  but 
these  conditions  do  not  exist  usually  as  do  those 
other  conditions  of  warm,  thick  water,  and  the 
odor  of  water  weeds  and  rank  vegetation  and 
general  sliminess  that  hangs  about  the  fish.     A 
fish  that   in  any  other  country  than   America 
would  be  considered  a  sporting  fish  is  the  chub 
or  fall  fish.  SemotlJus  hiiUans.     It  is  a  beautiful 


(;AME   F18II  AND  FISHING. 


255 


silvery  fish,  fights  well  on  the  liook,  takes  fly 


iiicl  be 


1(1 


ike 


not 


is  found  in  schools  in 
Champlain,  hut  to  the  bass-fisher  it  is  i 
sance.  When  hooked,  the  fall  fish  act 
unlike  the  brook  trout,  and  Professor  Goode 
says  that  in  Massacliusetts  it  is  called  the 
"  coushi  trout,"  because  of  its  trout-like  habits. 
Yet  this  fish  is  caught  only  to  be  thrown  away. 

Another  fish  found  in  the  lake  nmst  have  a 
short  notice,  although  it  is  anything  but  a  game 
fish.  This  fish  is  called  the  sheeps-head,  but  it 
is  the  fresh-water  drum,  Ilaploidonotus  griin- 
niais,  and  is  as  worthless  for  any  purpose  as 
any  fish  that  I  know.  If  it  is  distinguished  for 
anything  it  is  for  its  ear-bones,  which  are  called 
''lucky-bones."  These  bones,  two  in  each  fish, 
are  about  the  size  of  a  nickel  and  of  the  texture 
of  ivory,  but  pearly  white;  and  have  plainly 
marked  on  the  surface  a  letter  L,  which  cer- 
tainly stands  for  lucky-bone.  They  may  possi- 
bly be  lucky,  but  they  do  not  work  in  pairs. 

I  had  been  fislung  in  Back  Bay  for  a  week 
with  two  Texas  friends,  and  during  the  last 
day's  fishing  a  "  sheeps-head  "  was  taken  in  one 
of  the  boats,  and  the  boatman  took   out   the 


256 


LAKE   CIIAMI'LAIN. 


lucky-bones  from  the  Iioad  nf  ibo  fish  and  ])re- 
sented  one  to  one  of  tlie  Toxjins  -ind  the  otlier 
to  the  writer,  "for  luck."     We  gibed  the  tliird 
member  of  our  party,  the  major,  because  he  had 
no  visible,  tangible,  material  evidence  of  luck 
in    his   whole    outfit,  but    promised    he    should 
share  in  our  dividends  —  and  he  did.     He  de- 
clared  that   he    did   not   desire   to    have    any 
"mullet-head  luck,"   and  that  the  letter  L  in 
our  cases  stood  for  lunatics.     The  next  morninir* 
we  started  from  St.  Albans  to  go  through  Lakes 
Champlain    and    George,    and    at    Burlington 
reached  the  steamboat  dock   in  time  to  get  a 
square  view  of  the  stern  of  the  Vermont  steam- 
ing away  to  Ticonderoga,  and  the  major  growled 
something  about  "  luck,"  which  did  not  begin 
with  (f.     We  were    told   that   by  crossing   the 
lake  to  Westport  on  another  steamer,  we  could 
catch  the  Montreal  train,  which  would  overtake 
the  boat,  and  we  joyfully  told  the  major  that 
the  lucky-bones  would  work  all  right  when  we 
had  mastered  the  combination. 

Our  steamer  reached  the  Westport  dock 
seventeen  minutes  after  the  train  had  steamed 
away  southward ;  and  there  the  m.ajor  offered 


GAMK  FISH   AND  FISHING. 


25T 


to  buy  the  lucky-bones,  and  the  negotiations 
might  have  ended  in  a  riot  if  the  major  had  not 
happened  to  see  a  man  on  the  dock  with  a  fine 
string  of  black  bass,  which  he  went  to  ask 
about,  and  found  they  were  caught  from  tlm 
dock. 

We  ordered  a  carriage  to  take  us  to  An 
Sable  Chasm,  and  while  waiting  for  it,  the 
owner  of  one  lucky-bone  bantered  the  owner  of 
the  other  to  run  a  foot-race,  with  the  major  for 
finish  judge,  for  a  cool,  well-favored,  robust, 
carefully  selected  bottle  of  the  juice  of  the 
grape,  extra  dry.  The  race  was  run,  and  the 
major  decided  it  a  dead  heat.  Three  times  he 
ordered  it  run  over,  because  it  was  a  dead  heat,, 
although  there  were  several  yards  between  the 
runners  at  the  finish,  before  we  discovered  that 
he  was  trying  to  kill  the  contestants.  When 
we  reached  the  hotel  we  found  we  had  time  to 
go  through  the  ch  sm  before  dinner,  and  started 
at  once.  At  the  Grand  Flume  we  found  a  boat 
but  no  boatman,  and  the  major  insisted  that 
"this  is  luck;  but  such  luck'"  We  readied 
the  outlet  without  "  going  up  the  flume,"  but 
there  was  no  wagon   to  take  us  to  the  hotel. 


2o8 


I-VKi:  CnAMl'I.AIN. 


T 


riie  ni.ijui-  crlaivd,  h„t  si)oocli  failed  him,  and 
when  finally  wo  did  net  to  the  hotel,  late  for  a 
hot  diunor  but  just  in  time  for  a  cold  one,  the 
Morni-cloiid    hurst   with    a    clatter    that    would 
iiave   made   the   dogs   of    war   stick    their   tails 
between  their  hinder   legs,  and   strike  out   for 
the  brush.     The  riot  act  read  something  after 
this    style :    -  This    is    Saturday,  and  our  only 
chance  to  get  to  our  families  is  the  midnight  ex- 
press from  Montreal,  provided  we  can  drive  to 
the   dejwt  without    the    horses    running   away, 
which  1  doubt.     On  the  train  are  men,\vomen, 
and   children  that  never  harmed  either  one  of 
you,   never  heard  of    you    and    never  wish  to, 
and  they  will  be;  sleeping  peacefully,  innocently! 
never  dreaming  that  each  of  you  has  a  lucky- 
bone  in  his  pocket,  and  it  is  a  bad  night  for 
the  train  to  jump  the  track.    You  start  to-night, 
and  I  shall   wait  until  Monday,  for  I   cannot 
trust  myself  on  a  railway  train  with  those  lucky- 
bones.     You  have  tried  them  on  water  and  on 
land,  and  they  do  not  work ;  neither  of  you  can 
fly,  to  try  them  in  the  air;  sell  them  to  me,  and 
I  will  send  them  to  a  man  who  stole  a  pail  of 
bait-fish  from  me  at  Lake  George,  and  thev  will 


fJAMK   FISH  AND   ri.sIIIX(}. 


2r)9 


ruin  his  fishing  forever."  Wo  knew  the  man, 
and  sokl  out  our  hiek.  This  experience  is  given 
as  a  warning,  and  it  may  be  added  tliat  directly 
after  tlie  hait-ai)i)r()])rial()r  received  the  lucky- 
bones  he  lost  the  biggest  lish  that  ever  he 
liooked. 

Something  like    fifteen   years  ago   T  was  in 
Port  Henry  in  March  or  April,  and  the  hotel- 
keeper  where   I    dined    regretted    that    he    was 
unable    to    give   me    some    '^  ice-fish "    for    my 
dinner.    It  was  to  me  a  new  fish,  and  I  was  then 
informed  that  they  were?  comparatively  new  to 
Lake  Cham  plain,  but  were  caught  through  the 
ice  in  great  quantities  at  that  season.     A  de- 
scription of  the  fish  made  me  think  that  they 
were  the  smelt.  Oamcrua  7nordax,  and  when,  later, 
samples   were   sent   to  me,   that    is    what  they 
proved   to  be.      They  were  then  caught   near 
Port  Henry  and   at   Westport.      I   have    since 
learned  of  their  being  taken  opposite  Burling- 
ton and  at  Plattsburg.     At  one  point  they  were 
called  frost-fish,  but  where  that  was  I  do  not 
recall.     If  they  are  taken   in    one  part  of  the 
lake  they  should  be  found  in  other  parts,  and 
I  presume  they  are.     They  furnish  fishing  at  a 


260 


lakp:  champlain. 


season  when  nothing  better  offers,  and  every 
one  knows  that  they  are  good  when  fried  in  fat 
like  a  cruller   and    served  with  sauce  tartare. 
During  the  coming  spring  the   United   States 
Fish  Commission  will  furnish   a  million  lake- 
trout  fry  to  be  planted  in  Lake  Champlain,  and 
there  seems  no  good  reason  why  this  fine  fish 
should  not  thrive  therein  and  furnish  excellent 
angling  and  a  new  and  choice  food  fish.     Troll- 
ing for  lake  Irout  is  not  fly-fishing,  but  when  a 
fifteen-pound  Najiiaycush  is  hooked  at  the  sur- 
face on  a  light  rod  it  is  fishing  "  good  enough 
for  the    Jones    family."      A   sentiment  which 
upholds   the  fish  laws    as   just  and  proper  is 
rapidly   growing   with   all    people.      Canadian 
authorities  are  working  in  harmony  with  the 
Vermont  Fish  Commission  to  stop  the  netting  of 
fish  in  Missisquoi  Bay,  that  vast  breeding  and 
feeding  ground,  and  the  prospect  for  good  and 
varied  fishing  in  Lake  Champlain  was   never 
better  since  the  salmon  disappeared  than  to-day. 
Recalling  the  pleasures  we  have  enjoyed,  most 
heartily  do  we   commend  the  splendid  rod-fish- 
ing to  be  found  in  Lake  Champlain  to  brother 
anglers.     To  the  fly-fisher  we  make  no  sugges- 


n 


GAME  FISH  AND  FISHING. 


261 


tion  as  to  lures,  for  his  fly-book  will  contain, 
somewhere  between  its  covers,  just  the  combina- 
tion of  feathers,  silk,  mohair,  and  tinsel,  when 
deftly  cast,  to  draw  to  the  landing-net  black 
bass  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting.  To  the  bait- 
fisher  we  will  say  that  on  the  shores  of  the  lake 
and  in  the  small  streams  thereof,  there  may  be 
found  in  abundance  the  shiniest  minnows  for 
early  fishing,  the  biggest  and  yellowest  grass- 
hoppers and  fattest  and  blackest  crickets  for 
midsummer  fishing,  and  the  greenest  frogs  and 
thinnest-shelled  crayfish  for  later  fishing. 

To  those  who  visit  fair  Champlain  and  partake 
of  and  enjoy  her  wealth  of  game  fishes,  her 
health-giving  air,  her  glorious,  sunny  days  and 
peaceful,  restful  nights,  may  there  come  again 
and  again,  in  the  language  of  the  lamented 
Westwood,  the  nineteenth-century  Walton,  — 

"  Oh,  the  pleasant  roaming 
Homeward  through  the  gloaming  ! 

Oh,  the  heavy  creel,  alack !  Oh,  the  joyful  greeting ! 
Oh,  the  jokes  and  laughter, 
And  the  sound  sleep  after, 

And  the  happy,  happy  dreams,  all  the  sport  repeating ! " 


I 


